


Wired Desires

by guerillareyes



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, BDSM, Boot Worship, Collars, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guerillareyes/pseuds/guerillareyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders and Hawke met on a fetish website. They never meant for it to become serious, but sometimes, shit happens. </p><p>100% consensual dom/sub relationship, modern AU that begins online. Porn with a little bit of plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

It had been a long day, Anders thought. A sixteen hour shift at the clinic was nothing to scoff at, even for him, and as he threw his keys onto the counter he wanted nothing more than to curl up into bed for the next eternity.

The plug up his ass and the man who controlled it, however, were not going to allow that. Even after hours of wear, he could still feel the stretch of it.

He groaned. _Why_ he ever thought entering into an online relationship was a good idea was beyond him, but he was too far in to back out now. At just the thought of Hawke his cock stirs. With a grimace he forced the thoughts back; he already knew that Hawke wasn’t going to be thrilled with his lateness and it would only anger him more if Anders touched his cock.

He managed to cook himself a miserable looking dinner before slinking into his bedroom and flipping open his laptop. He took a bite of undercooked noodles as he logged into Skype. No more than a minute passed before Hawke’s name popped up and Anders released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

domHawk: You’re late, Anders.

medicCA: I’m sorry. The clinic held me over today, couldn’t just leave and had no time to message you.

domHawk: I’m sorry _Sir._

medicCA: Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.

domHawk: Tsk, tsk. It’s been less than a day since we’ve spoken and you’re already needing punishment like a naughty dog. Neglecting to tell me of your shift change, forgetting to call me Sir…this is beginner’s material, Anders. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten everything I’ve taught you over the course of a day.

medicCA: No, Sir! It’s just been a long day. It won’t happen again.

domHawk: You know I don’t like excuses.

medicCA: Please, Sir. I couldn’t help it. I would have messaged you if I had the time.

domHawk: More excuses. What did I just say?

medicCA: I’m sorry, Sir. Forgive me.

domHawk: Better. You’re not forgiven yet, but at least you can still form a proper apology. Barely.

domHawk: Did you keep the plug in like I asked you to?

medicCA: Yes, Sir.

domHawk: Did you enjoy it?

medicCA: …Yes, Sir.

domHawk: Good. Turn your cam on show me how much. <<Color?>>

medicCA: <<Green. Just tired, sorry, but I’m good for a scene.>>

domHawk: <<Alright. Let me know if it changes.>>

Anders smiled softly to himself and had half the mind to shove the half empty bowl of ramen to the floor. Despite the lethargy clouding his mind, his cock pressed hard against his pants. He found it mildly embarrassing when they had barely done anything yet, but by this point he was far too used to the effect that Hawke had on him to care.

He brushed his scrubs of any remaining crumbs before pushing the laptop to the edge of the bed and flipping the camera on.

medicCA: Here, Sir.

A few seconds passed before Hawke’s face flooded his vision. As per usual, he looked decidedly _gorgeous,_ his black beard framing his rugged features while his dark eyes poured into Anders’ own. Anders sat to rest on his knees and bowed his head forward slightly.

“What would you have me do?”

Hawke’s rapacious eyes devoured him and Anders shivered.

“Take your shirt off.”

Anders did so. He pulled the dirty off-blue shirt above his navel slowly, teasing, before throwing it to the floor.

“Anything else?”

“There’s about a million things I’d like to have you do, but for now, let your hair down and strip the rest of your clothing. When you’re done, I want to see your ass.”

With a shiver, Anders undid his blonde tresses. He gave them a quick shake and they settled messily just above his shoulders. From the camera, Anders heard the rustling of a belt and he glanced up. Hawke’s eyes met his own and Hawke tsk’ed.

“Mind on your task, Anders.”

“Yes Sir.”

Anders rose up onto his knees and started to shimmy out of his scrub pants. When they first began this arrangement, Anders couldn’t help but feel ridiculous every time he stripped himself to an empty room. As time passed, however, it felt almost as if Hawke was present in the room with him. He delighted in Hawke’s control and affection and even if the man was not physically present, his power unquestionably was.

His pants and underwear landed on the floor with a soft thud.

“Get your ass the fuck over here,” Hawke said with a growl. Anders moaned softly before shifting around so he could comfortably rest on his elbows as he raised his bottom towards the other man.

He heard a soft groan from the other side and the unmistakable sound of Hawke lightly touching himself.

“Spread your cheeks,” Hawke said. “I need to make sure you kept to your word.”

Anders slowly pulled his cheeks apart and Hawke made an approving noise.

“Good boy. How does it feel right now?”

“Good, heavy,” Anders said. “Not as tight as this morning but I couldn’t keep my mind off of it all day.”

“Did you pretend it was my cock fucking you? Taking you while you talked with your patients and coworkers? Did you sit for lunch and feel it up inside of you, wishing that I was there?”

Moaning, Anders nodded and pressed his ass higher into the air. His erection strained wildly but Anders knew better than to touch without permission.

“Yes, Sir. But I know your cock is bigger than this.”

Hawke gave a guttural laugh. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Now,” he continued, “I want you to take it out and then face me.”

Anders spread his knees a little further apart before reaching back and lightly pulling on the plug. He couldn’t stop the moans from pouring from his mouth as he tugged until it popped out. Although he expected it, the emptiness was almost overwhelming. As he turned to face Hawke, he barely resisted the urge to stick something else in. Hawke’s eyes bared into him and he didn’t attempt to hide the fact that he was masturbating himself at a moderately fast pace.

“Fuck yourself,” Hawke said. “Use as many fingers as you want. Don’t come until I let you and don’t touch yourself.”

Anders nodded with a whimper and lowered his hand to his hole. Tentatively, he stuck one finger in, but it felt like next to nothing so he stuck in another. And another. Finally, he felt some amount of relief and he began to ride himself with no small amount of vigor. It wasn’t as good as a cock, Anders knew, but the satisfaction from pleasing his Master pushed him forward. He stuck a fourth finger in and moaned lewdly, head thrown back in ecstasy as he teasingly rubbed his own prostate.

Hawke’s breathing was ragged even through the low quality microphone.

“Fuck, come for me, Anders. Come for me.”

With a cry, Anders canted his hips towards Hawke and came with a cry, cum splattering his chest. He felt his muscles tighten around his fingers and waited until they loosened before he removed them with a sigh. He panted softly, looking at Hawke with heavily lidded eyes.

“Good boy,” Hawke groaned and although he couldn’t see everything, Anders knew that Hawke had reached climax, his breathing labored and shoulders heaving.

“Fuck,” Anders moaned. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Mm,” Hawke answered. “Don’t think you weaseled your way out of a punishment. That might have been damn good, but sex doesn’t cloud my mind like it does yours.”

“No, Sir, it doesn’t,” Anders grimaced. “I’ll take whatever you give me.”

“Red,” Hawke said. Anders eyes shot up and he opened his mouth, but Hawke continued before he could speak. “Real talk, Anders, but nothing bad. There’s a conference coming up that my boss is recommending I go to.”

Looking confused at the abrupt change of subject, Anders nodded. “Ok..?”

“In San Francisco.”

Anders blinked. “Ah.”

Hawke continued with a hint of awkwardness. “So I thought that we could, you know. Meet up. If you want.”

“I…” Anders rubbed his temples, processing. “Well…yes. I mean, it’d be kind of stupid not to if you’re in the area, right?” He chuckled nervously

“You don’t seem very excited about it,” Hawke said, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure you –“

“Yes, I’m sure,” Anders interrupted. “I’m sure. Really. I guess it’s just, well, I’ve only ever done this online. Not that I don’t love it, because I do.”

“We can take it slow,” Hawke said. “You know I wouldn’t force you into anything that you didn’t want.”

“I contest that! You make me do plenty of shit I don’t want.”

Hawke rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Good! Naughty subs need to do things they don’t want to do. You like it, anyways.”

Anders stared at him for a few moments before chuckling. “Dare I admit you’re right?”

“You don’t have to admit it for me to know it’s true.”

“Oh, shut up,” Anders muttered. He glanced at the time on his laptop and his eyes widened. “Shit, I really have to get some sleep. Another shift in seven hours.” He groaned.

Hawke appeared sympathetic. “Get some sleep. I’ll send you information about the conference tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me, Sir.” Anders smiled softly. “Fuck if I know why I keep this job, though.”

“The masochist likes a masochistic job? Shock.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know. Now go to sleep, love.”

Anders nodded. “Talk to you tomorrow.” He gave a little wave before turning the camera and laptop off and climbing into bed. With the promise of actually meeting Hawke, how in the _hell_ was he expected to sleep?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% sure where I want to go with this but I aim to please, so if you have any requests leave them in the comments and I might include them later!
> 
> Also, I write slowly and don't use a beta. Sorry.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sex in this one, but the next chapter will make up for that :)  
> Expect it pretty soon because finals are next week and god knows I'll do anything that isn't study for finals.

Anders managed to slog his way through half of the day before nearly collapsing in the break room. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had attempted to sleep in the first place – the thoughts of Hawke had kept him up far past his normal hours. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help but impulsively check his phone the entire night for messages. He regretted it now, of course; he managed to catch a glimpse of himself in a mirror earlier and grimaced. Even _Varric_ straight up told him he looked like shit that morning.

He was usually more tactful about it.

At least his shift was half way over, he thought. Then he could return home and turn his phone on and off repeatedly for another six hours until he passed out.

Unless…

He trudged across the room to the locker where he kept his personal materials and quickly unlocked it. He barely had the time to lament the ‘no cellphones on the unit’ policy before noticing the flickering green light at the top of the phone. His heart caught in his chest and he pulled the phone close to himself as he turned and glanced around the room. Feeling satisfied, he tapped it on.

His relief was immediate. He almost found it pathetic, but nonetheless he opened the message from Master Hawke with a contented sigh.

 

Anders,

The conference I mentioned is from August 20-22. I plan on staying in the city from the 19th until the 27th. Since it’s a month and a half out, and I know you have vacation time, I expect you to be available for most of the week. Beyond that, I’ll send you flight information after I book it.

Don’t think that I will neglect your punishment. Since you seem to have forgotten the very basics of our arrangement, I’m going to give you a little task to help jog your memory. Wax your legs. Just your legs. You are mine, Anders, and if you cannot complete this, I will question your obedience in this arrangement.

I’m going to be busy the next few days, so you have until Friday to do so. We’ll Skype then.

Hawke

1:37p

 

Anders blinked before mindlessly settling into a chair at the edge of the room. He stared at the phone. Was this even _real?_ It was hard to tell. He never would have thought in any reality that he and Hawke would discuss actually meeting. Meeting in _less than two months._ The punishment was but a vague afterthought when compared to that. Despite himself, he grinned widely and tapped out a reply.

 

Thank you, Sir. I’ll try my best to get the time off of work.

Would you like pictures of the punishment?

2:22p

He set the phone down, knowing that if he didn’t, Hawke would be in for a deluge of clingy messages. His resolve lasted for all of a few minutes before he picked it up again and started typing.

I can’t wait to see you, Sir. In person.

2:24p

I know. You won’t be disappointed.

2:25p

And yes, of course I want pictures.

2:26p

 

Anders eyebrows raised at the quick reply. Hawke usually took much more time to painstakingly craft his replies. Anders always figured that it was to torture him by forcing him to wait, but in this case…perhaps Hawke was just as excited about everything as he was? And dare he think it about his Master, but in their candid conversations he always found Hawke a bit of a, well…

Dork. Goofball. Whatever you wanted to call it. Despite the man’s carefully crafted _written_ responses, Hawke was far more playful when speaking than his texts would imply. He could dominate a scene, of course, but outside of them Hawke always seemed more awkwardly charming than anything else.

For the Maker’s sake, he had a poster of some terrible 80s anime on the back wall of his room. Anders was never sure if Hawke just didn’t care or had yet to master the subtle intricacies of webcam management.

He typed out another reply.

 

I wouldn’t dare be disappointed.

Thank you, Sir.

2:28p

Even with a mildly painful punishment looming over him, Anders felt better than he had in weeks. Just the thought of seeing his Master brought him out of the near comatose state he had woken up in. He enjoyed the last few minutes of his break before he returned to the ward, a spring in his step.

 

*******************************************************

 

“Hey, Blondie!” Varric grinned and Anders was immediately wary. He had only just walked through the apartment door as Varric accosted him. He shuffled to the side of the kitchen to hang up his keys before giving the other man an exasperated look.

“Yes?”

“Oh, just saying hello to my good friend,” he drawled. “It’s been almost a whole day. You basically flew out the door this morning so I didn’t have time to mention how much I appreciated your vocal rendition of a bitch in heat last night.”

Anders groaned. “Hardly. It doesn’t count if you’re literally sticking your ear to my door to get material for your trashy novels.”

“Ah, ah – I didn’t stick my ear to your _door._ I just stood a few feet down the hallway and took a couple of notes. I mean, even if I hadn’t, the neighbors surely heard you.” He paused. “I don’t really get it, though. He’s not actually doing you in the ass; what the hell is there to yell about?”

Anders turned away and shoved his jacket onto the coatrack. “Yeah, we’re done here. I’m not talking about this.”

“Oh, come on!” Varric said. “You haven’t told me anything about him and you’ve been together for like six months! Is he handsome? Redhead? With chiseled abs and a toothy grin? Inquiring minds need to know.”

Anders briefly considered walking off, but with a sudden realization, he paused. “Actually,” he said. “I need a favor, so I’ll give you a few questions.”

Varric quirked an eyebrow. “What’s the favor?”

“Hawke is going to be coming into town and while I’m sure he’ll have a hotel booked, I don’t know for how long. I’ll probably need you to not be here for a day or two,” he said. With a strained voice, he adds, “Please.”

“Hawke?” Varric said. “That’s his name? Huh. Suitably mysterious.” He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of rum. He poured Anders and himself a drink before gesturing to the table. “Come, come. Sit and drink with me while I figure out what juicy questions I get to ask you for allowing this huge favor.”

Anders cringed. “You get three. And you _swear to me_ that you’ll keep to your word.”

“When have I not kept to my word?” Varric looked mildly offended as he took a swig from the glass. “If there’s anything the Tethras family is, it’s loyal!”

“Fine, fine,” Anders said, downing the glass with a wave. “Just ask your damn questions.”

“Right to business, then. I like it.” Varric grinned as he leaned forward onto his elbows. “So, how’d you meet? And don’t spare me the details!”

“Online,” Anders said. “On an, uh. More _niche_ site.”

“You’re sparing me the details, Blondie.”

“Ughhh,” Anders whined. “A niche _fetish_ site. Ok? I don’t need to spell it out for you. You’ve spied on me plenty enough to know my preferences.”

Varric shook his head. “You’re missing the point of the question. I don’t know him, but I know that you like it when he treats you like his whore.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Which, more power to you. Sexual liberation and all that. Rah Rah. Anyways, let me rephrase the question: who initiated and how?”

“You’re fucking absurd,” Anders said with a shake of his head. Varric was intent on driving him mad, it seemed. “Maker. He initiated because I posted in the forum saying I was looking for a partner. He was charming, cute, and dominant. I liked it. Happy?”

“Moderately,” Varric answered. “Although you’d be terrible at writing novels. Question two. Is he the first that you’ve been with in this…sort of relationship?”

“Um. Odd question, but no. I’ve played around online before.”

“Not in real life?”

“No.”

“Huh,” Varric said. “That kind of surprises me, but it gives me a nice piece for my narrative.”

“You are not writing about this!” Anders exclaimed, eyes going wide. “You can’t! I’m your friend and you can’t do that and I’ll kill you if you do.”

“That’s the best excuse you’ve got? Andraste’s tits, it’s not like I was going to use your name. It’ll be fine, and it’ll make me a _ton_ of money.”

Feeling hopeless, Anders rubbed his temples as his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Just ask the last question.”

“Alright,” Varric said cheerfully. “Do you love him?”

Anders’ head shot up. “Um, what?”

“You heard me.”

“I…” He looked off to the side, avoiding Varric’s eyes. “I don’t know, Varric. I wanted something casual, but as we’ve talked more…” He shrugged. “I like him a lot. I don’t know if it’s love. Maybe. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, either.”

Varric shrugged in return. “I have that sort of effect on people.”

With an eyeroll, Anders stood. “Right. Well, just…try to be gone for a few days. Alright? I’m going to go sleep. Maker knows I need it.”

“That you do, crankypants,” Varric said. “That you do.”


	3. III

He couldn’t believe that he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with a packet full of wax strips, but, well, there he was. The cashier had only given him a marginally disapproving look which Anders had been appreciative for. He was just thankful that Hawke hadn’t commanded that he go and ask for it to be done professionally – he didn’t think he could live through that sort of mortification.

Well, without Hawke, at least. Anders probably would have appreciated it with him there, but there weren’t many options when your boyfriend slash sex partner slash Master lived half way across the country.

He sighed. Not that he didn’t love his online play with Hawke, but he would almost vibrate in anticipation whenever he thought about actually _meeting_ him. He tried not to linger on the thoughts of the man: how he would smell, what he would wear, how he would kiss him. Lingering meant confronting his feelings, which, Varric had aptly proved, was not something that he wanted to do.

He removed a strip from the packaging and began to rub it between his hands to warm it up. He had done a decent amount of research: beyond the actual waxing itself, he had trimmed and exfoliated his legs for the past few days. Smelling like coconuts, he admitted to himself, was actually pretty nice.

Despite having never waxed himself, he was relatively confident that he wouldn’t die. So when he placed the strip down on his leg, pulled it back, and felt as if he might actually be dying, he was surprised.

“Fuck!” He hissed. It was if a million tiny needles were stabbing into his thigh and he understood now why this was a punishment. The realization that he had to do this at _least_ another twenty times forced a pathetic sounding noise out of his mouth. And, since he didn’t have a choice, lest he face something even worse from his Master, he continued. As time passed and used strips piled up, he found that the pain was less intense. Manageable. Pleasurable?

Perhaps not pleasurable. Self-inflicted masochism didn’t really work on him; the riding crop hidden shamefully in his closet attested to that. Still, the task got progressively easier with each upward pull, and he finished in less than an hour. Upon examination, he noticed a few splotches of mild redness, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

He immediately grabbed for the bottle of Aloe and as he applied it in soft circles, he sighed contentedly. It could have been much worse; at least Hawke hadn’t made him wax his balls. He shuddered at the thought. As Hawke crossed his mind, Anders grabbed his phone off of the sink and brought up the camera. It took a few minutes of wiggling, but he managed to take a picture that hid the majority of the redness.

 

I completed your task, Sir.

[Photo Attachment]

6:40p

He slipped his pants back on, reveling in the smooth glide of his legs in them, and made his way back to his bedroom. Since they were slated to Skype tonight, Anders doubted that it would take long for Hawke to reply.

It didn’t take long.

 

I was wondering if you were going to do it on time. Cutting it awfully close, aren’t you?

6:48p

I wanted it to be fresh for you tonight, Sir.

6:49p

Well. It is quite fresh. You have irritation everywhere.

6:50p

Sorry. I couldn’t help it.

I thought it would be worse, honestly.

6:50p

You did well for your first time. Skype early?

6:51p

Yes, Sir.

6:52p

Anders was already blushing softly by the time he opened his laptop and set it on the bed. He only had time to situate himself on his knees before finding himself on the receiving end of a call. He answered, bowing his head docilely as Hawke appeared on the screen.

“Good evening, Sir,” he said, his voice holding barely constrained enthusiasm. Three days without Hawke was a _long time._

“Hello, Anders,” Hawke replied. His eyes scanned the other man before he grinned. “Looks like you’ve been dying without me.”

“A bit,” Anders said, eyes downcast. “I didn’t realize how much we talk until we didn’t talk.”

Hawke chuckled. “I’ve made you too dependent on me,” he said. “Maybe I should back off a little? Give you some time?”

Anders eyes widened as they shot up to meet Hawke’s own. “No, Sir! Anything but that!”

“Anything? I’ll keep that in mind, although you wouldn’t like some of the other options. My kitchen really needs cleaning,” he smirked. “Regardless. Pants off. Show me your punishment.”

Anders huffed but didn’t dare to say anything other than a quiet ‘Yes, Sir’ as he dropped his pants to the floor. He shifted his legs so the splayed in front of the webcam, giving Hawke an ample view.

“Good,” Hawke said as he shifted in his chair. “You’ve done well.” Anders feels a blush crawl up his cheeks at the praise. He was no longer ashamed to admit that he had grown to crave Hawke’s approval and he _lived_ for moments like this.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Hawke nodded. “Tell me why you were punished.”

“Because I failed to give you proper respect in calling you Sir and telling you my schedule,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’ll do better.”

“I know that you will. I’ve never had any doubts.” Hawke leaned forward, resting his chin against his knuckles. “Despite the handful of missteps, you are doing beautifully, Anders. You’ve been so receptive.”

“Thank you, Sir. I couldn’t do it without you.” His voice wavered on the last note. While in the past he might have found such praise to be meaningless, especially with other Doms, as he grew with Hawke he found that a pleasant haze would fall over him at the man’s sweet words.

“Which is why we’re so good together,” Hawke said. A moment of silence passed, although Anders was so caught in his own mind that he hardly noticed. Hawke cleared his throat before adding, “Keep your legs bare until I visit you. Shaving as a replacement for waxing is fine.”

Anders nodded. “Of course, Sir. Can I ask why?”

“No,” Hawke said with a toothy grin. “But thank you for asking.”

“I guess I should have expected that.”

“Yes. I will tell you that I bought you a related present, but you don’t get it until I fly in.” He gestured to the side of the room. “I’ve already been packing. It’s been hard narrowing down what I want to fit into my bag of tricks, you know. One suitcase is hardly fair.”

“Now you’re just torturing me,” Anders whined. At the implication, he felt heat rising in his groin and in the position he sat in, it was completely obvious to Hawke.

“Seems like you like it,” Hawke murmured. “The anticipation. Not knowing what I’m going to do to you. The real question is what,” he paused, slowly lifting a crop from the desk in front of him, “Will I do to you first?”

As Anders watched Hawke raise the instrument, blood immediately flooded to his cock. It was almost like a punch to the gut, as quick as it was, and his eyes rolled back in his head with a groan.

“Whatever you want, Sir. I’m yours.”

“Yes, you are,” Hawke said. “Touch yourself. Your cock first, then start working your hole open.”

With a grateful nod, Anders began working his cock slowly, enjoying the sensations as his Master looked on. Hawke’s pupils were blown, Anders noted as he briefly made eye contact with him. In fact, he looked downright predatory, and Anders shivered.

“I could start with this,” Hawke said, tracing the crop along the edge of the cam. “You’ve expressed your interest in it. It stings, of course, but I’ve been told that it can be quite pleasurable when the owner knows what they’re doing.” He slid the crop down the side of his face teasingly. “Which I do, of course. I could have you on your knees in an instant with this, begging for it.”

“Please, Sir,” Anders gasped. His cock was almost unbearably hard, precum dripping from the tip as he thumbed the slit. He fumbled for the lube on his dresser, pouring a small amount onto his fingers, before sliding his fingers towards his opening and prodding gently. “Although I’d happily be on my knees for you without that.”

“I know,” Hawke crooned. “You’re so eager to serve. Look at you now, spread in front of me like a whore, fingering yourself for my pleasure. You were _made_ for this.”

Anders moaned lewdly and pushed his finger further into himself, rocking against it. A few days without any touch had left him abnormally tight and he hissed as he added the second finger in, stretching ever so slowly. “What would you have me do now, Sir?” He asked, pumping the digits in and out of himself, shuddering and throwing his head back as he pushed up against his prostate.

“Unfortunately, most things I would like you to do involve me sticking my cock in you, so we might have to settle for something else,” he said, sighing. “Get a toy to fuck yourself with. You are permitted to choose which.”

Anders nodded. “Thank you, Sir.” Thankfully, he kept his shamefully large box of toys under his bed, so it only took a few moments of fumbling until he found the one that he was looking for. It was almost reminiscent of an actual cock if you squinted, and while he well knew that it wasn’t the real thing, it was better than the neon green monstrosities that he often saw online. It was large, too, larger than Ander’s own cock but comparable to Hawke’s. Before pouring a not insignificant amount of lube on it, Anders stretched himself more, fitting in a third finger and scissoring himself before he felt ready.

With the toy lubed, he positioned it under himself and sank down onto it painstakingly slowly, wincing at the stretch. While it was no substitute for a real cock, with Hawke watching over him with dark eyes Anders felt completely and utterly fucked.

“Good,” Hawke said with a low rumble. “Start on it slowly and work your way harder. Close your eyes and pretend you’re riding me.” He made no effort to hide the stroking of his own cock as Anders’ hips rose and fell.

“Yes, Sir,” Anders said, quickly obeying as his eyes fluttered shut. With one hand holding the base of the toy, he languidly sank onto it with a moan. It only took a few more strokes for the pain to disappear completely and he was able to focus on his task. It took some imagination, but Anders could vividly picture himself rising and falling onto Hawke’s cock. There would be warmth there, the heady presence of lust and passion that Anders found hard to find when separated by almost two thousand miles and a computer screen. His hips would slam down onto Hawke’s own and he would cry out as his Master pulled his hair forward and slammed his teeth into his waiting neck. He wanted Hawke to claim him, mark him as his own for the whole world to see. Only then would he feel completely satisfied.

He found himself viciously pounding himself with the fake cock as his thoughts drifted and his eyes glazed over. He hadn’t even touched his own member since beginning and could just now feel the indicatory signs of his orgasm.

“Sir,” Anders gasped. “Please, I’m going to come.”

Hawke nodded behind half lidded eyes as he stroked his own cock with vigor. “You are allowed.”

With his Master’s permission, Anders slammed himself down one last final, hard time before his back arched in a fluid motion. He moaned loudly as cum splattered across his chest and he clenched around the toy that was deep inside of him. He panted hard, his breath coming out in short little bursts as his lungs attempted to replenish themselves.

“Fuck, Sir,” Anders slurred. “Maker. If only it was your real dick. I know I say that every time, but it’s still true.”

Hawke, Anders noted, had also seemed to find release if the state of his shirt was anything to go by. He smirked.

“I’m right there with you, my dick is in serious need of some Anders,” Hawke laughed. He wiped a trail of sweat from his forehead and pushed his hair to the side. “Not too much longer, at least.”

“As far as I’m concerned, almost two months is an eternity at this point.” Anders slipped the used toy to the floor and gingerly positioned himself on his stomach. “Just put me in a cryogenic tube.”

“If I can survive, you can,” Hawke chided. “At least you get to have fucking crazy stories from the hospital. Computers don’t have nearly the same charm as the people that stumble into the ER.”

Anders scoffed. “Yeah, pump someone’s stomach and then tell me the same thing.”

“Are you sassing me? I know that our rules are lax after a scene, but you’re pushing it, boy,” Hawke said, eyebrows raised.

“Hah, of course not, Sir. When would I ever sass you, Sir.”

“You’re going to get your ass beat first thing off the plane if you keep it up.”

“The horror,” he deadpanned. “The horror of having something I want done to me.”

Hawke rolled his eyes. “You’re such a brat. You’re lucky I just came.”

“Lucky indeed,” Anders murmured. And he _was_ lucky. Even if he had to wait almost two months to feel Hawke’s touch, it was worth it. He could stick it out.

Hopefully.


	4. IV

He had been in the airport for what felt like _ages._ And, well, maybe he had been. The flight wasn’t scheduled to arrive for another twenty minutes but he had been mingling around the airport terminal for the last two hours. The magazine vendor had started giving him odd, pitying looks and Anders almost felt compelled to explain to him that, no, he hadn’t been _ditched,_ he was just paranoid.

Paranoid and anxious. He hadn’t slept the night before due to the feeling of nausea increasing with every passing hour. It had given him plenty of time to dress and redress, tie up his hair, let down his hair, and bang his head into the wall before actually leaving for the airport.

Not that he hadn’t also done those things in the terminal as well, because he had. In fact, as he paced around, he tied his hair up _again_ for what was probably the twentieth time.

With a scowl, he sat. The waiting was torturous and the fact that Hawke’s flight had been slightly delayed hadn’t made it any better. He wasn’t sure if he was more anxious about the flight never showing up or actually meeting Hawke.

Maker. Meeting Hawke. _In less than half an hour._ Despite sitting in an airport to pick the other man up, Anders felt like the whole thing wasn’t actually real and that he’d wake up in bed at any moment, though usually he didn’t feel so tired when he was actually sleeping.

Another fifteen minutes passed before Anders spotted a plane landing. An intense wave of nausea immediately hit him and he had to consciously breathe a slow mantra of _In, Out,_ until the feeling passed. He still felt a little woozy as he stood and walked over to the gate, but damned if he had waited this long just to throw up in an airport toilet now.

As other passengers begin to trickle out, Anders considered that, maybe, he was wrong. The porcelain throne might actually be the better idea after all. What if Hawke didn’t actually like him after meeting him? Sure, they got on fine online, Anders thought, but real life was a totally different story and oh Maker he was freaking the fuck out and Hawke –

“Anders!”

Hawke was right in front of him.

Anders hadn’t even _noticed._

“Are you doing alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m not one and I’d want you to tell me if this airport is haunted.” Hawke grinned widely and slung his shoulder bag so it fell across his back.

“I’m –” He was interrupted as Hawke’s arms wrapped around him and clung tightly. The man pressed his hands into Anders’ back softly until his head was crooked to rest against Hawke’s neck. Anders was stunned into momentary silence as he considered the fact that he was currently _hugging_ Hawke. Actually touching, in real life, no computer. He smelled of pricey, warm cologne. “I’m – I thought you’d be taller!” He choked out.

Hawke barked out a laugh. “That’s the first thing you choose to say to me? I’m not even short. I’m six foot. You’re just,” He took a moment to step back and look over Anders’ frame. “Abnormally tall. What are you? 6’4”?

Anders felt slightly lost as Hawke pulled away. “Uh, 6’3”, but close enough.” He rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Hawke may have been taller than him, sure, but Anders had nothing on the other man’s width. His biceps looked thicker than his waist; all the better to pin him down with.

Maker, he was filthy. “I never thought it was relevant so I never said.”

“Well, it does complicate a few things,” Hawke said. “But I’ll manage.”

Anders quirked an eyebrow. “Things..?”

Hawke nodded shortly. “Yes. Things. Now,” he said, leaning in, eyes boring into Anders’. “Can I kiss you?”

Anders felt completely hypnotized. He doubted he could move even if he wanted to. “You have to ask?” he asked breathlessly.

“Huh, you’re right! I don’t.” Hawke grinned widely before caressing Anders’ chin with the tip of his fingers. A bit forcefully, Hawke pulled the other man towards him and Anders’ hands fluttered at his side before shakily finding purchase at Hawke’s hips. It started gentle; Anders felt like he was in somewhat of a dreamlike state as Hawke’s lips pressed against his own, not demanding, but almost reassuring him that, yes, he was there. _They_ were there.

Hawke’s free hand gently tugged at the hairs at Anders’ nape and he moaned, deepening the kiss, rejoicing in the feeling of Hawke’s tongue sliding against his own. He only just had the strength to not fall to his knees in submission and worship the other man, but although Hawke must have cast some sort of spell on him, he did still realize he was in public.

A loud, disgusted grunt sounded from a few feet away and Anders regretfully pulled back. “I guess not everyone loves a show,” Anders said, breath still ghosting along Hawke’s lips.

Hawke huffed. “Their loss.” He pulled his arms back to his side with a shrug. “I need to get my luggage anyways. It would be no fun without it.”

Anders grinned. “I have a feeling that I know exactly what’s in there.”

“And I have a feeling that you don’t have the slightest idea.” He said matter-of-factly, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Anders’ nose. “The question now is _how much_ did airport security fuck with it?”

“Hopefully not at all?”

“Not likely.”

Anders chuckled quietly as they left the terminal. Maker. He couldn’t believe that he was actually _with Hawke_ , making stupid banter as they walked to pick up a suitcase that was inevitably full of sex toys that Hawke was going to use on him. The whole thought was so absurd that Anders began to laugh under his breath as Hawke returned to him after grabbing the large, leather-bound suitcase.

“Something funny?” Hawke asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Everything is ridiculous,” Anders said. “Somehow we’re both at the point in our lives where we’re picking up a suitcase full of sex toys at a crowded airport.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Well, no,” Anders conceded. “It just feels a little silly. Not that I’m not happy, hell,” he shook his head with disbelief. “I am. But I feel like I’m going to wake up from a dream any moment now.”

Hawke pinched him. Anders squawked. “What the hell?”

“Not dreaming, then.”

“Cheeky bastard,” Anders muttered. “You’re lucky I’m driving you back to my place after that.”

“And _you’re_ lucky that none of our terms of our contract have taken effect yet because I would normally wash your mouth out with soap for that type of talk.” Anders found it difficult to tell if Hawke was being entirely sincere, but regardless, his stomach dropped and felt heat pool in his groin.

“I – Sorry, S-Hawke,” Anders stuttered. Less than twenty minutes and he was already making a fool of himself.

“Tripping over yourself after a few words from me already?” Hawke chuckled. “Too bad we’re in public. The sooner we get back to your place the better, yeah?” He clicked the handle of the suitcase up and gestured to Anders. “Well, lead the way.”

Anders did. His tiny little car was parked on the far end of the ramp and Anders almost laughed as Hawke climbed in. The two of them barely fit inside, but when Anders bought the car, he hardly considered another passenger to be an issue. Before Hawke, he had mostly assumed that he was going to end up alone.

And he had been at peace with that. After everything with Karl, he didn’t _want_ anyone else. But, Anders noted, time changed things, as was evidenced by the bulky man sitting next to him as he drove down the freeway. And he was happy. He hadn’t realized until that point how unhappy he had actually been and the fact that Hawke was at least partially the source of the happiness terrified him. He wasn’t used to relying on others; he didn’t know if he _wanted_ to rely on others. But with Hawke sitting next to him at the moment, maybe it would be worth trying.

They arrived at Anders’ small apartment after a half hour of mindless talking. The amount that they didn’t know about each other was astonishing. Hawke was amused to find that Anders was nearsighted and wore glasses when driving; Anders laughed when Hawke showed him the shitty tribal tattoo that encircled his right ankle. Anders felt a bit depressed knowing that had they met in a more traditional manner, they would know each other’s little quirks, likes and dislikes, ten times better than they did currently.

“You doing alright?” Hawke asked as he unloaded the suitcase from the trunk.

“Of course,” Anders said, cursing internally. The man was a damn psychic.

“No,” Hawke said. He set the luggage at his feet before rubbing Anders’ cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Don’t start that now. We _need_ to communicate if this is going to work. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Anders shook his head. “It’s really nothing important. I just…wish we had met differently. I don’t like not knowing all of these little things about you. It’s like, I know you’re you, but being together in person is so much different and I feel like we’ve sort of missed that.”

Hawke nodded. “I get that. Really. Long distance fucking sucks, and it’ll fucking suck even worse after I go back.” He paused. “But we’re together now, right? Let’s make the best of it. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a bed that needs warming in there.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Anders grinned.

Even with Varric gone, Anders fretted over the state of the apartment. It wasn’t _shitty,_ exactly; he and Varric made enough money to afford something decent. “Well, here we are,” Anders said. He gestured his arms around. “As you can see, I live in the finest working class abode this side of town.”

“It’s cozy,” Hawke said. He set his luggage on the floor and wrapped his arms around Anders’ waist, pulling him in with a quick tug. “I like it. I’ve only ever seen pictures of your bedroom, and while it’s a nice bedroom, I like knowing how you live.”

Anders felt a flush creep up his cheeks as Hawke’s hands traveled down his back. “Want the grand tour?” he asked. His hips arched into the touch.

Hawke nodded and released Anders’ ass with one last squeeze. “Sure.”

Anders walked to the center of the living room and pointed in rapid fire succession. “Kitchen, living room, bathroom, Varric’s room, don’t go in, he’ll know, and,” he took a few steps to the left and knocked on the wooden doorframe. “My room.” He clicked the door open and gestured for Hawke to enter. “Not that you don’t already know what it looks like.”

“I know well enough,” Hawke said. He shut the door as he entered behind Anders and immediately turned to pin the other man against it. Anders gasped as his head hit the wood with a soft clunk and Hawke moved so his face was less than an inch from Anders’ own. “Maker, do you know how crazy you make me?”

“I might have some idea,” Anders replied as Hawke’s nose travelled up the curve of his neck and inhaled.

“Nothing crazy right now,” Hawke said, looking up to meet Anders’ eyes, pupils blown. “I don’t think I have the patience to sit down work up a contract when all I want to do is bend you over and take you. You opposed to fucking like almost normal people this once?”

Anders laughed breathlessly and threw his arms around Hawke’s neck. “Maker, no,” Anders murmured, neck arching down so he could nibble at Hawke’s jaw. “I want it so fucking bad.” His lips slowly moved to rest against Hawke’s and Hawke could only mutter what Anders assumed was an affirmation before crashing their lips together. It was so much more than their kiss in the airport; there was no one else to watch them, no one to tsk while Hawke’s tongue probed forcefully against his.

There was no gentleness in the act as Hawke’s hand fisted a handful of Anders’ hair and pulled him further into the kiss. He felt consumed; with a moan, Anders’ eyes rolled back into his head and he wrapped a leg around the other man. Hawke pulled away and desperately began to tear off their shirts, throwing them to the ground carelessly as he pressed his bare chest up against Anders.

Anders had been waiting _so long_ for this, the touch of Hawke’s skin, how the other man would feel against him. He had seen Hawke’s chest, of course, just as Hawke had seen every part of him. But touching was entirely different and Anders doubted he could ever be satisfied again with just a computerized image. The bristles of dark chest hair against his almost bare chest was thrilling, better than he could have imagined, and as Hawke’s beard rubbed insistently against his neck, Anders was immensely thankful that the one he had fallen for was a hairy beast.

Hawke nibbled at the junction of shoulder and neck, teasing softly with little kisses and licks before pressing his teeth into Anders’ skin and sucking. Anders moaned and threw his head back into the door with a loud thud, but the pain was almost unnoticeable as Hawke lavished fierce little love bites across him.

Hawke pulled back and Anders grunted at the loss. “Bed?” He asked, rubbing circles into Anders’ scalp, soothing. “Don’t want you to give yourself an aneurysm and bleed everywhere.”

“Hematoma,” Anders immediately replied. “A brain injury would give me a hematoma.”

“Ok, _nurse,_ ” Hawke muttered. “Didn’t know I was going to get educated on brain injuries today.” He pulled Anders away from the door and led him towards the bed.

“Hah, sorry,” Anders said, yelping softly as Hawke pushed him down onto the bed. Hawke joined him soon after, pinning Anders’ arms above his head with one hand. The other teased and twerked his nipples, forcing out a groan and small arch. Even with his arms restrained, Anders leaned up and sucked at Hawke’s neck.

“No,” Hawke said. He pushed Anders back down with a small wave of his finger. “Conference, remember? No marks above the collar.”

“Excuses,” Anders muttered. He aimed lower, licking and kissing Hawke’s clavicle while the other man’s hand trailed slowly down Anders’ chest to begin undoing his pants. Anders lifted his hips in assistance and in a matter of moments his pants were lying haphazardly against a chair. Hawke grinned devilishly and pulled Anders boxers down until his cock sprang forward. Anders looked at him with pleading eyes, his member already drooling precum as Hawke lightly dragged his fingers down the length. He took two fingers and placed Anders’ cock between them, providing just the lightest bit of pressure.

Anders grunted. “Tease,” he murmured, canting his hips up to encourage Hawke to take more. “ _And_ you’ve still got your pants on. It’s hardly fair.”

“I wouldn’t start expecting fairness now,” Hawke said, removing his hand entirely from Anders’ cock. “Sets a bad precedent for the future when you’ll be at _my_ mercy and whims.”

With a moan, Anders shook his head. “Still not fair that I can’t touch your cock if you’re touching mine.”

Hawke shucked his own pants and briefs off, adding them to the pile before sitting heavily on Anders thighs. “I’ll humor you this once,” he said. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, allowing his heavy cock to rub against Anders own. Anders moaned in approval and he canted his hips upwards, trying desperately for any sort of friction.

Up close, Anders had time to admire how utterly gorgeous Hawke’s cock looked. It was large, but not porn star large, thank the Maker, and it angled slightly to the left when fully erect. A noticeable vein traversed the upper side and Anders wanted nothing more than to run his tongue along it before taking the entire thing into his mouth and gagging on it.

“Want something?” Hawke asked, keenly aware of the eyes that were glued to his member. He leaned back and slid off of Anders thighs, resting on his bottom, before patting the bed next to him insistently. Anders complied with a nod, slipping onto his hands and knees and kissing Hawke before planting little nips along the other man’s torso. Every time he did so, Hawke’s abdominals clenched deliciously and Anders enjoyed watching the little twitches as he forced himself lower.

He found himself at the level of Hawke’s cock and he nuzzled his cheek against it playfully before licking along the edges. Hawke stilled beneath him and Anders could have sworn he heard a moan. He took the tip of Hawke’s cock into his mouth and tongued the slit softly; that time, he _knew_ Hawke was making pleased, contented noises. He stayed around the tip for a few moments, enjoying the heady taste of Hawke’s precum on his tongue, before pushing himself down. He swirled his tongue around the length that lied hard in his mouth, alternating between sucking and hollowing his cheeks as he pushed it further in. Hawke’s toes curled around his back, Anders noted, pleased with himself.

He found himself mere inches from the base before gagging and Hawke pulled back, Anders falling off with a pop. “Not now,” Hawke murmured heavily. His cock dripped heavily with fluid. “I promise I’ll fuck your throat good later.” Anders nodded with a whimper. “Where do you keep your lube?”

Anders reached into the bottom drawer of the nightstand across from him with a grunt. He grabbed a bottle and handed it over to Hawke before settling back onto the bed.

“Legs up,” Hawke commanded. Anders scrambled to comply, kicking his legs up so they rested on Hawke’s shoulders. Hawke uncapped the bottle and poured a fair amount onto his fingers. Anders shuddered in anticipation and made a choked sounding noise as Hawke prodded at his entrance. His muscles tightened and Anders moaned.

“Sorry, it’s,” he wiggled his hips to fit more comfortably against Hawke. “It’s been a while since anyone other than myself has done anything down there.”

“Unfortunate,” Hawke said. “But it’s alright. Take your time.” He circled Anders hole more gently, waiting until the muscles had relaxed completely before inserting a finger inside. Anders moaned lewdly, having forgotten how good it actually felt to have someone else finger him. He bore down onto the digit with a groan, rocking his hips gently, silently asking for more. Hawke moved the finger in and out of him, stretching, before adding another.

Anders had to bite back a hiss at the burn, but it was a _good_ burn. Of course, it always hurt a little bit when he did this, but Maker he was happy that it was Hawke doing it to him. He allowed himself to get lost in the sensation of scissoring and stretching, eyes glazed over until he felt a third finger entered his tight hole. A hitched moan escaped him and his fingers clenched into the dark bedsheets as Hawke fucked him with his fingers.

Hawke suddenly removed his fingers and Anders felt lost without the pressure. He looked over to Hawke, and with his hair matted down to his forehead and face flushed, he was sure that he looked like a right mess. Hawke didn’t seem to mind, at least; his eyes were darkened and his cock stood strong. Hawke leaned in and kissed Anders desperately, his hands grasping and pulling at the fine strands of blonde hair. He pulled back just enough to meet Anders eyes. “Ready?”

“Please,” Anders begged. Hawke took no time to wait and slowly pushed his cock into the body below him, sitting on his knees and watching as Anders’ hole devoured him. Anders gasped and sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, breaking skin. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth as Hawke pressed farther into him. It hurt, yes; it hurt worse than the fingers and worse than the plugs and dildos that Hawke had often ordered him to stick inside himself. But it was completely worth it as he felt Hawke slide in to the hilt with a grunt, his burly hands gripping Anders’ waist and using him as leverage in his thrusts.

Hawke pulled out and back in slowly, but less so than before. “I won’t break,” Anders gasped, arching his back as the tip of Hawke’s cock grazed over his prostate. He swore loudly, tightening around Hawke as the pleasure racked his body.

“Not you I’m worried about breaking,” Hawke grunted, hips stilling as Anders convulsed around him. He took a few deep breaths before thrusting in hard with a pleased noise. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he said, teeth clenched as he set a steady rhythm. Anders was overcome with pleasure, head thrown back in ecstasy as Hawke drove in and out of him. His hands tangled in Hawke’s hair, kneading through it as he made little mewling noises as Hawke began to fuck him in earnest.

He felt so close to the edge but didn’t want it to end, not yet. His cock lied neglected across his belly but Anders refused to touch it, knowing that if he did, this would end. They had found a comfortable rhythm in their thrusts; Hawke would slam in to him just as Anders raised his hips to meet him and they would both moan incoherently.

They continued their rhythm for a few minutes, but Anders wanted more. “Harder,” he said, voice harsh and low, punctured by moans at every thrust.

“Get on your knees,” Hawke said. Anders, with a regretful nod, removed Hawke from himself with a lewd noise and positioned himself onto his knees, ass high in the air while his face rested against a pillow. As soon as his head hit the pillow, Hawke entered him fully in one quick slide. Anders had never felt so full; not with toys, not with any other partner. He gasped out a few ragged breaths as Hawke pounded into him mercilessly. The angle allowed Hawke to push directly onto his prostate with every thrust and Anders yelped and moaned with no care for who could hear him. He felt Hawke’s weight suddenly along his back as the man collapsed on top of him, pushing in harder and faster than Anders thought even possible.

“Fuck, Hawke,” Anders cried out. “I can’t – can’t take any more, please, Sir, I need to –”

“I know,” Hawke said. His hand reached around to fondle Anders’ sack before moving to stroke in a sloppy, hard rhythm. Anders’ entire body arched off of the bed in pleasure and he threw his head to the side to try and catch a glimpse of Hawke pounding into him. Hawke stroked Anders’ erection insistently, hand tight around it, and Anders panted and bucked desperately into the other man’s hand. “Come for me,” Hawke commanded.

One more quick tug from Hawke was all it took for his mind to completely exit him. He spasmed uncontrollably under the larger man, his channel tightening and flexing around Hawke’s thick cock. His cum splattered across the bedsheets while Hawke continued to pound into him from above. A few more quick thrusts, hips snapping harshly into Anders’ backside, and Hawke groaned his own completion into Anders’ shoulder. The warmth of Hawke’s release made Anders groan in contentment. Utterly exhausted, Anders’ legs collapsed onto the bed and he lied flat while Hawke slowly removed himself with a grunt.

“Holy shit,” Anders moaned, voice muffled by the pillow as he couldn’t find the strength to remove himself from it.

“Yeah.” Hawke collapsed onto the bed next to him, his hand trailing small circles along Anders’ back. “Worth the wait?”

“Ask me when my mind is actually present, but I think yes.”

“You think?” Hawke asked, eyebrows raised.

“Nng.” He rolled onto his side to face Hawke.

“I’ll take incoherence as a yes.”

They lied together in silence for a few minutes. The whole morning seemed to catch up to Anders at once. It was still difficult for him to believe that Hawke was in the same bed as him, not to mention the fact that they had just fucked each other’s brains out. Hawke was the first to sit.

“Should probably wash up,” Hawke grumbled. “Be right back.”

Anders eventually heard a quiet laugh from the living room. He was mildly concerned, but not enough to get up; luckily, Hawke entered a few moments later anyways.

“Do you play Dungeons and Dragons?” He asked, a shit-eating grin on his face as he flung himself back onto the bed.

Anders paused, entirely confused. “…What? I mean, yes. But…what? Why?” He felt a little defensive at the grin on Hawke’s face.

“I saw one of the rulebooks out on a shelf. Fuck, that’s cool. I always wanted to be a dragon.” The legitimate look of excitement on Hawke’s face forced a few tiny chuckles out of him.

“ _That’s_ why? Have you ever played? You don’t usually get to be a dragon.”

Hawke looked torn between concern and hysteria. “That’s disappointing. Why’s it called Dungeons and _Dragons_ then?”

“You, uh. You kill the dragons. They’re evil.”

“What!” Hawke looked personally offended. “That’s _ridiculous._ Not all dragons are evil.”

Anders shrugged. “I mean, technically you’re right, but nobody ever plays as a dragon. They’re too powerful. There are dragon _kin_ in some versions, I think, but not officially.”

“I want to be that.” Hawke looked completely serious and Anders wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“A dragonkin..?”

“Yes.”

Anders shook his head in exasperation. “Are we really talking about fucking _Dungeons and Dragons_ after banging for the first time? Seriously?”

“Also yes.” Hawke grinned. “Oh, come on. Hook me up. I’ve never played, and I’m sure I can tie something else in to make it worth your while.”

With a hefty sigh, Anders waves his hand in surrender. “Fine. We play every Monday night. I doubt Varric will care if you show up.”

Hawke gave what Anders considered an adorably dorky fistpump before settling back into bed. “Awesome.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to submit to you.”

Hawke gave him a cocky smirk. “A dominant man can’t enjoy pleasures outside the bedroom?”

“I…guess I can’t really argue with that one. You win.”

“As I always do.”

Anders cuddled into Hawke’s excessively furry chest and sighed. “You know, you ruined any semblance of romance after bringing dragons into the bedroom.”

“Heh,” Hawke grinned. “Just because _you_ can’t figure out how to fit dragons into – “

“Ok, stop.” Anders had to hold back a chuckle. “But really. I had planned out everything I was going to say, and you brought up board games.”

“A life with me is always unpredictable.” He paused and cleared his throat. “What were you going to say? Out of curiosity.”

“Um,” Anders looked up at Hawke and a flush crossed his features. “Well, the mood has kind of passed now. But, you know. That I’m glad you’re here, I’ve been dying waiting, I think I love you, I’m glad I’m doing this with you, I’m – ”

“Ok, stop, and go back a few words.”

Anders frowned. “I was hoping you would skip over that part if I put it in the middle.”

“You _love_ me?” Hawke looked disbelieving. Anders felt suddenly ill.

“Well…yes.” He chewed at the corner of his lip and avoided Hawke’s eyes. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Hawke said. He grabbed Anders chin and angled it towards him. “Of course not.” He planted a chaste kiss against Anders’ lips. “Why would that be bad? To be honest, I’ve been trying to do the whole ‘ignore your feelings’ thing and it hasn’t been working out very well. I never intended things to get this far when we started talking, but fuck. I love you too.”

Anders let out a heavy sigh of relief he hadn’t been aware of holding. “Well, thank the Maker. I’d hate for the next week to be entirely awkward.”

Hawke laughed softly and pulled Anders into his chest. “Well, now that we’ve got the romance out of the way, care for lunch? I’m starving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god the whole D&D section is relevant to a future chapter, but I couldn't help but include that dialogue option about Hawke wanting to be a dragon.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mild breathplay towards the end.

Surprisingly, Anders found, working out a sexual contract was a lot more difficult than one might think.

“I’m not even sure what some of these things are,” Anders said. He flipped the paper over and his nose crinkled in disgust. “And half of them almost inspire me to run away in terror. Castration fantasy? Injections? Plastic surgery, are you kidding me.” He set the pen down on the table and rubbed at his eyes. “Who likes this?”

“Someone, I’m sure,” Hawke said with a shrug. He picked up his own copy and looked it over. “It’s the most comprehensive version I know of, so yeah, you’re going to see some weird shit on there. But it’s easier for me to gauge what you like and dislike when I have more information.”

Anders cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you already know?”

“Well, yes,” Hawke said. “The gist of it, at least. But maybe there’s something that I wouldn’t normally consider that you really like, maybe…” He picked up the checklist and scanned it over before pointing randomly. “Gun play. Or having me control your wardrobe.”

“No on the first, maybe on the second.”

Hawke nodded slowly. “And how would I have known that if the list didn’t ask? The point is that I don’t know where you stand on everything. This thing helps and it tells me where we’re compatible _beyond_ what we’ve already established.”

“Alright, fair point,” Anders said. He briefly paused before continuing. “But my counterpoint is tampon training in the ass. What the _fuck._ Is it actually so common that it needs to be listed on here? I mean, really?”

Hawke laughed. “Point taken, and I don’t know. It might surprise you, but I don’t know absolutely everything,” he grinned. “Just finish it up and I’ll compare them.”

“Fine,” Anders grumbled. He picked up the pen and began scribbling numbers and very large print NOs where the paper allowed. If there was one thing that Anders had learned from the task, it was that the kink scene was far, _far_ more varied than he had ever realized. While he turned up his nose at a large chunk of it, there were still a wide variety of items that made his insides curl with lust.

He clicked the pen shut and slid the finished list to Hawke. “Done. Try not to judge me too harshly.”

“No judgment until I’ve got you collared at my knees. I’ll respect your sense of dignity for now,” Hawke said cheekily. He grabbed both lists and collapsed onto the couch. “Entertain yourself until then.”

With an eyeroll, Anders slipped into the old, tattered chair across from Hawke. He made a few attempts to halfheartedly fiddle with his phone, tapping buttons mindlessly, but after a few minutes of attempted distraction his mind was brought back to the task at hand.

They were almost _done_ with the contract. Soon after Hawke finished looking over the papers in his hand, it would go into effect. He glanced cautiously at the small box sitting on the kitchen table. It had been resting there, teasing him, since he and Hawke had returned from lunch hours ago. Hawke had taken it out of his bag and set it on the table with a smirk, saying nothing, but it didn’t take a genius to know what it contained.

Soon enough, the collar inside would be cinched tight around his throat and he would be at Hawke’s utter mercy. The thought should terrify him, really. The fact that he was allowing someone to control him should _absolutely_ scare him. But it didn’t. Hawke made him feel safe, secure: protected from the world that wasn’t inclined to show him much kindness. Hawke made him feel so _good,_ and Anders…

Anders wanted. He craved the submission.

Even just two years ago he would have punched a man for telling him what he would now be thinking, but now, he wanted nothing more. While he sat quietly in the chair, waiting impatiently for Hawke to finish whatever mental kink math he was performing, Anders felt nervous. He couldn’t stop his fingers from fidgeting and continuously caressing the edges of the frayed armchair. And yet, through the edge, he felt excited. His neurons were a double edged sword, simultaneously shooting jolts of arousal to his groin while his stomach twisted into knots.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the knots in his stomach relaxing a little as he focused on the slow, exaggerated breath. He looked over to Hawke and found Hawke’s eyes boring into him. His stomach turned.

“Are you alright?” Hawke asked. “We can stop if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, I’m fine. Just a bit nervous.” His words were slightly higher pitched than usual. Internally, he cursed.

Hawke nodded. “Yeah, that’s normal. Just tell me if it gets to a point where you want to stop.” He held up the papers he had been comparing. “I’ve also finished looking at these. Unsurprisingly, we’re pretty compatible, though there were a few that you marked that I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Anders felt heat rise to his face. “Is that wrong?”

“Of course not,” Hawke said. “But I know you’ve never done a scene in real life before so I wasn’t sure how kinky you wanted to get.”

Anders cocked an eyebrow. “We’re both kinky bastards, Hawke. You know that as much as I do.”

“I mean, yeah. But real life is different than online.” He shrugged. “But just to reiterate: I have the opposite of a problem with this.”

“Relieving,” Anders murmured. The silence grew thick over the room. “Anyways. You said you were done?” His voice was soft and his gaze shifted to the nearest wall.

“Yes. Are you,” Hawke stopped and cleared his throat. “Do you want to continue?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Hawke said. He stood and grabbed the stack of papers that lied scattered across the dining room table. “Then I’m going to go over our basic rules with you again. None of this is legally binding and since this is a short-term arrangement, I haven’t written everything down. If this becomes something more,” he paused, taking a short breath, “Permanent, then we can make something more formal. For now, this will be fine.”

He sank back down onto the couch and placed the stack of loose leaf papers onto his lap. He patted the cushion beside him, inviting Anders to join him. It didn’t take much convincing and within moments Anders was next to him, body slightly stiff.

“Relax,” Hawke said. His hand brushed gently across Anders’ thigh and the man jumped. “This is just an extension of what we’ve already been doing.”

Anders willed his muscles to unclench and he settled comfortably against Hawke’s side. “I know.” He looked up at Hawke. “Keep going.”

Hawke snorted. “Don’t get into the habit of bossing me around. But, I’ll listen to you this once.” With a grin, he nuzzled his face into Anders’ hair. “So. Most importantly, you can call off whatever we’re doing at any time. We’re using the color system for safe words; red for full stop, yellow for approaching your limit, and green for yes, good, fuck me more.” Anders chuckles vibrated across Hawke’s chest. “Additionally, you are only bound by the following rules when you wear my collar. Any rulebreaking is acceptable without it because I won’t consider us to be acting in our roles during that time. Good so far?”

Anders nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Colors, collars, you fuck me. I’m good.”

Hawke rolled his eyes. “Actually _tell_ me the safe words.”

Anders huffed. “Red for stop, yellow for approaching my limit. Maker, we’ve been over this five times, I think I’ve got it.”

“It’s the most important thing for you to know, so I’m making sure you do. I don’t think you can blame me for that. Anyways,” he said. “Actual rules. While you are wearing the collar, you are under my ownership, and you will call me Sir or Master. No exceptions. You will respect me and my decisions, and if you disagree with them, you will be respectful about it. You will complete any task or order I give you to the best of your ability. I also expect you to thank me for anything that I give you – reward, punishment, or otherwise. I have the right to punish you for any reason I see fit. It doesn’t have to seem fair to you because it might not be.” He tilted Anders’ chin up to look at him directly. “Still good?”

“Yes.” Anders shivered.

“Good. I expect you to trust me, completely. If you don’t, or have an issue with something that I have done or am doing, you will bring it up to me. You will also tell me if you have broken, accidentally or not, any of the rules I have given you. Additionally, you are not to cum without permission, and I may add other rules as I see fit the longer that we are together.” He paused. “Those are all of the major points on your end, I think. If I add another, I’ll tell you, and any rulebreaking prior to that will not be punished.”

“As for myself. I will guide and create the scenes, and I will absolutely respect any call to end one. You are safe with me and you’re absolutely allowed to punch me if I do something to break that trust. I might push what you think your limits are occasionally, but I’ll do it because I want you to grow in this relationship. I expect us to learn from each other, but more importantly, I want us both to have fun and enjoy this.” He smiled softly and carded his fingers through Anders’ hair. “Submission for you should be pleasurable. Usually.”

Anders nodded with a laugh. “The underlying assumption being that I don’t accidentally break a rule. I guess we’ll see about that.”

“Oh, you will,” Hawke said simply. “But it’s a part of growing in this lifestyle. I’m not a _cruel_ Master, I know you’re still learning the ropes.”

“I’ll allow myself to believe you there for my own sanity,” Anders said with a laugh. Although they had gone over all of this before, Anders felt immensely better having it all laid out before him. His stomach seemed to relax and he leaned back into Hawke’s lap. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Anders continued. “So…what now?”

Hawke’s fingers moved gently across the other man’s cheekbone. “Well, I’d say this is the part where we get on with it. We’ve been over everything. As long as you trust me, we can start, well. Whenever.”

At Hawke’s words, Anders sat up and turned to gaze into Hawke’s eyes. “I trust you. Completely.” And in fact, he had never trusted anyone _more._

“Good. Go to the bedroom; I need a few minutes to get into my headspace.”

“Sure,” Anders said. He twisted out of Hawke’s reach, but not before planting a soft kiss onto the other man’s lips. His heart pounded fiercely against his ribcage. “Do I, ah, need to do anything, or..?”

“Not yet,” Hawke replied, giving Anders an assuring smile. “Just make sure there isn’t shit lying all over the floor. Don’t want to break anything.”

Anders chuckled and with a slow, timid nod, he left. There was nothing to clean; despite his occasionally unkempt appearance, his room was usually spotless. For once, Anders cursed his organizational skills, needing desperately something to capture his attention while Hawke prepared in the other room. Anders wasn’t sure exactly _what_ he was preparing, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but the waiting was driving him mad. He had plopped onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

Even though only a few minutes had gone by, it felt like an eternity had passed when Hawke finally entered the room. Anders shot up out of bed and rose to his feet, standing next to the side of the bed. When he finally decided to _look_ at Hawke, he nearly gasped. Hawke entering his headspace apparently required a change of clothing, because the man standing before him had slipped out of his overshirt, wearing only a black tanktop and pants that hugged his frame perfectly. But beyond the simple clothing, Anders noted, Hawke had put on a pair of well-worn leather boots that Anders had never seen.

It occurred to him that he would very much like to slip to his knees and beg for whatever Hawke would give him.

Hawke took a few steps forward and Anders’ attention was drawn to the small box he held. He shivered, knowing what was within. “Anders,” Hawke said. “Come here.”

Anders nodded and moved forward, body seemingly on autopilot. He stopped mere inches from Hawke and cast his eyes downward as Hawke removed the collar from the box. Hawke set the box on a dresser to the side and cradled the collar in his hands. Anders hadn’t been allowed to see it, before. But, it was elegant in its simplicity; made of black leather, the only embellishments were a small, round ring in the front and two buckles in the back.

Anders preferred it that way; he was never one for extravagant jewelry. Hawke interrupted his thoughts with a loud clearing of his throat and Anders jumped. “Kneel.”

The command felt like a pure shot of adrenaline into his bloodstream. With a small gasp, Anders’ eyes shut and he slipped to the ground with a reverberating thud. He clasped his hands in his lap and gazed up at Hawke with wondering eyes.

“I’m going to collar you,” Hawke said. He rolled the collar around twice in his hands, watching the light reflect off of the metal clasp. “Any last minute objections should be raised now.” Hawke paused, allowing it to drag out for a good five seconds before continuing. “Good.” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Anders’ hair, tugging his head up with a light jerk.

Anders whined softly and his fingers quivered in his lap, wanting to reach up and touch, but holding back. He would wait for Hawke’s permission if it damn well killed him. Hawke had unclasped the collar and slowly lowered it until the front of it was pressed snugly against Anders’ larynx. Anders had to bite back a moan as Hawke removed his hand from his hair and pulled the clasps together in the back, tightening to the point where Anders could feel it as a constant reminder every time he breathed.

With the clasps buckled, Anders took a deep breath. He was collared. _Owned._ Thinking back, he never believed it would be this exhilarating. Somewhat contradictorily, he felt free, unconstrained by what the model of sexuality was expected to be. His eyes fluttered, half lidded, and he took another breath to steady himself before gazing up at Hawke.

Hawke took hold of his chin and pinched hard into the jowls of his cheeks. “You are _mine,”_ Hawke snarled, harshly forcing the other man’s head up. He leaned down, breath ghosting along the shell of Anders’ ear. “So serve me. Serve your Master.”

Anders _immediately_ felt heat rise within him. His body shook and his hands were unsteady as Hawke released him from his grip. He fell, hands splaying onto the floor as he sputtered and attempted to regain some sense of composure. But, he realized, that would not happen; he felt Hawke’s boot come to rest at the top of his back. He felt utterly dominated; every attempt at moving was forced back with a push of Hawke’s foot.

Anders whimpered. He inched his face as forward as he could go in his current position, nuzzling reverently against Hawke’s other, steady boot. He kissed the scuffed tip of it before tentatively licking a stripe down the side. Hawke seemed to approve, at least; his other foot came to rest next to Anders and tapped his head insistently. Anders repeated the process on the other boot, kissing and licking, feeling a warm contentedness grow inside of him as he heard Hawke groan in approval above.

Suddenly, it stopped. Hawke shook him off of his boot and looked down at him. “Good boy, but enough.” Anders heartrate shot up at the praise. “Have you ever had your throat fucked before?”

“I…” he hesitated. Had he? Had his experiences with Karl counted in that – No. He _wasn’t_ going to think about that now, he was _not –_

“Answer me,” Hawke hissed. He clutched a bundle of Anders’ hair into his hand and pulled the man forward until Anders’ nose pressed roughly against the outline of Hawke’s cock. Anders could feel the hardness even through the fabric and he moaned.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Anders said, breathing heavily into the cloth. “I haven’t. Not…really.”

Hawke cocked his head, eyes narrowed. He had a lingering suspicion that Anders was hiding something, but now was not the time. “Then I’ll teach you. Undo my pants.”

Anders nodded with a quiet ‘Yes, Sir,’ before reaching to undo the zipper. He pulled the pants down efficiently, lowering them just enough so that Hawke’s cock could spring forth. It stood a mere inch from his lips and he wanted nothing more than to stick it into his mouth and suck. He looked up at Hawke for approval. “May I, Sir?”

“You may,” Hawke answered. “Hands behind your back. Use only your mouth.”

“Yes, Sir.” Anders hands clasped behind his back as soon as the command was uttered and he sunk down onto the cock in front of him with vigor. It was familiar in some ways, of course; the same cock had graced his lips only hours before. The bitter taste of precum on his tongue was the same, as was the way it laid in his mouth, but everything else was different.

This act felt positively filthy in Anders mind, and he loved it. He loved it when he took Hawke’s cock further into his mouth and Hawke fisted his hair, pushing him in further. Hawke’s hips rocked steadily into him, not entirely forceful, not yet. Anders licked and sucked the cock offered to him, positively worshipping every inch of it as spit ran down the side of his face. He fucked himself on it, forcing himself to the point where he could go no longer without gagging. At this, Hawke pulled him back by roots of his hair. Anders moaned wantonly, his mouth missing the headiness of Hawke’s prick.

“You’re going to get past that,” Hawke said. “So I can fuck your throat properly. Breathe through it.”

Anders nodded as best he could despite Hawke holding him back. Hawke released his grip on Anders’ hair and lowered him forcefully, pushing his cock back between Anders’ supple lips. They stretched obscenely and Anders’ eyelids fluttered as the pleasant weight returned to his mouth. Hawke started fucking him slowly again, pushing to the point just before Anders’ back would arch in a gag. Hawke continued this for a few more thrusts until spit and precum ran lewdly down the sides of Anders’ face, his eyes darkened with pleasure.

Without warning, Hawke pushed further. Anders felt his reflex kick in and he attempted to subdue it as best he could while Hawke rested in the position, body motionless. Anders felt the primal instinct to force himself off and protect his airway, but his mind resisted. Barely. “Stay where you are,” Hawke said. “I’m going to train you to take me. I know when you will need air, so just concentrate on what you’re doing now.”

With his neck tilted up and face filled with cock, Anders could only blink in acknowledgment at Hawke. Moments passed, and Hawke pushed his prick in slightly further. Anders gagged once more and Hawke repeated the process; resting his cock, waiting, pushing forward again until Anders could hold him without a gag.

Anders was so far gone in the lust that he didn’t even notice the moment when Hawke’s cock entered into his pharynx. Soon after, however, it hit him; his airflow had been cut off and his throat spasmed. Hawke pulled off quickly and carded his fingers through Anders’ hair. “You’re doing well,” he said, hair plastered to his face with sweat. “A pretty natural cocksucker. Lucky me. Now, I want you to take a deep breath and hold it while I push in. Swallow when I stop.”

Anders obeyed, breathing in, and Hawke’s member was forced in right after. It slid to the back with ease, Anders noted, and he felt slight pride at being able to please his Master in this way. Hawke stopped just before entering his airway and Anders swallowed as instructed. He heard a grunt from above as Hawke’s cock slid further into his throat than Anders’ thought possible. He moaned around it, and, despite his airway being cut off, he felt a sharp jolt of pleasure travel directly to his own neglected prick. Hawke fucked his throat relentlessly and Anders could feel the smooth glide of it pressing against the back of his throat with every thrust. It was so unbelievably _intimate,_ being so close to Hawke as he was, and he was almost sorry when Hawke pulled himself out to allow Anders to breathe. Maker, if he had to pick a way to die…

“Good boy,” Hawke murmured, his chest heaving. “Such a quick learner. I need you to take a deep breath now, as much as you can, because I’m not going to stop until I come down your throat.”

Anders moaned in response and Hawke’s cock was, once more, buried to the hilt in his mouth. Hawke held nothing back as he laced his hands around the back of Anders’ head, holding him in position as he viciously pounded his throat. Anders felt spit and precum drip out of his mouth, landing onto his jeans, but it was easy to ignore the debauchery of it when Hawke’s prick was fucking the life out of him. He could tell Hawke was close; the man’s cock was tensing and convulsing in his mouth and he could feel Hawke’s balls retract against his chin. Anders could feel the last, fleeting remnants of his air supply diminishing as Hawke thrust one last, final time, coating the walls of Anders’ throat with cum before he pulled out with a moan.

Anders gasped for air, chest heaving as he struggled to fill his lungs. Hawke ran his fingers down the side of Anders’ face, trembling slightly, before grinning madly. “Beautiful,” he said, “What a good little slut you are.”

Anders, after a few moments, had managed to get his breathing mostly under control. He flushed brightly at the praise and gave a soft, “Thank you, Sir.” His voice sounded slightly mangled and hoarse, but there was little pain.

With a contented sigh, Hawke’s shoulders sagged downward. “Kneel over the bed,” he said. “I wouldn’t prevent you from orgasm when you’ve been so good.”

“Yes, Sir,” Anders sighed, attempting to raise himself from his wobbly knees.

“No,” Hawke said, boot pressing him down. “On your knees. Crawl over.”

Anders nodded in reply and began to crawl, sauntering over with his as raised in the air. He took his place at the edge of the bed and wondered what the _hell_ Hawke had in store for him.

Truly, he had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I really love writing oral hahaha


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Impact play and spanking lies ahead. You've been warned.

Anders had been kneeling at the edge of the bed for what felt like centuries before Hawke approached him.

A light thud sounded behind him-- a sudden shiver travelled up his spine as Hawke’s broad palms slid the hem of his shirt up and tossed it to the side. He moaned softly into the mattress, hips arching as Hawke expertly divested him of his belt and slid his pants to the ground in a quick, controlled manner. Anders could almost feel the intensity of Hawke’s gaze, despite the other man standing out of view, and he closed his eyes with a soft sigh, his mind hazy with unmet desire.

Hawke’s hand were upon him once more, moving from ass to neck, leaving a trail of raised skin in their wake. He dipped two fingers behind Anders’ collar and gave it a short tug, forcing his head back. Anders’ shoulders tensed at the sudden restriction but he soon relaxed into it, moaning softly as Hawke’s other hand brushed through his blond locks. Idly, he noted, it had grown long enough to tickle his shoulders as Hawke twisted his fingers into it.

Hawke nibbled and bit around the shell of Anders’ ear before forcing his head to the side, pulling it away from the bed. “Do you have any ideas about what I’ve brought for you?” Hawke asked, fingers toying with the front of the collar.

Anders, as best he could, shook his head. “No, Sir.” Anders said, voice still hoarse. _Well,_ in actuality he had a bit of a clue, but he wasn’t about to guess wrongly and have Hawke tease him about it for the foreseeable future.

“Hmm,” Hawke murmured, “In that case, I guess a more _practical_ demonstration is in order.” He stood back, but not before smacking the flesh of Anders’ ass. Anders moaned and bucked into the bed in response, his neglected erection rubbing deliciously against it. Although Hawke had moved behind him, Anders didn’t have much time to mourn their separation. Within a minute Hawke had returned, trailing what Anders felt was some form of leather across his thighs. He shivered, willing his body to stay still as the crop prodded his ass.

“You indicated that you were interested in impact play. But,” Hawke said, stilling the crop, “You have no experience, as far as you’ve told me. So, we’re going to find out what you like. Nothing too complicated. I have some different tools here and you’re going to tell me if you find it painful or pleasurable and how much so out of a 5 point scale.” The tip of the crop moved upwards until it dug beneath the collar, pressing until Anders’ head dipped down, forehead pressed into the bed.

“I will give two strikes each - it should be enough for you to gauge your interest. Do you understand?”

Anders replied quickly. “Yes, Sir. You will strike me and I will tell you how pleasurable or painful it is.” Even at just speaking the words, his heartrate rose noticeably. With his chest pressed against the bed, he could feel the reverberating beats rattle against his ribcage in anticipation.

“Good boy,” Hawke said. He stroked the smooth expanse of Anders’ thigh with his free hand. In a more serious tone, he added, “For having never done this, you’re doing remarkably well.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Anders said. A slight feeling of guilt washed over him. While he had _technically_ never done anything to quite this extent…

He forced the thought down. _Focus. Focus on pleasing Hawke._ “I’m trying my best.”

Hawke’s eyes narrowed, but Anders, of course, didn’t notice. “Well, don’t try. _Do_. You’ll make a fine submissive with enough training. Now,” he said. “I’m going to administer the first two strikes.”

Before Anders could even nod his approval, the crop came down. He yelped out of sheer surprise and the second one struck him soon after. He moaned; the trails left behind by the strike were pleasant, leaving a tingling, burning sensation across his backside. Hawke stuck the crop underneath his arm and waited.

Before answering, Anders raised his hips, attempting to become accustomed to the pulsating pleasure radiating from his arse. With a contented sigh, he said, “Pleasure, Sir. About a three.”

“Good. Next.” Hawke bent down and retrieved what Anders noted sounded heavier. Much heavier. Metallic, even? He shuddered, and as soon as the cane came down, he cried out. _Pain._ Just one strike had hurt immeasurably more than the crop had. He heard the instrument swishing through the air before it made contact once more and his body tensed.

He regretted it immediately. The impact on his tight muscles was far, far worse than the first had been and he muffled a cry as he shoved his face into the bed. The spots where the cane had made contact felt absolutely brutal, and were only made worse when Anders took a shuddering breath. His back radiated pain with no pleasure to be found, and he felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he struggled to raise his head to speak. “Pain. Five. Please, no more.”

Hawke’s hands glided in a soothing motion over the welts, rubbing gently enough so that it didn’t hurt. “Color?” He asked, eyes concerned, his body stilled with hesitance.

“Green,” Ander said. “I’m fine, Sir. Just…not that again, preferably.”

Hawke nodded. “It’s the most conventionally painful of everything I’ve brought, so if you could handle two strikes from that, you’re probably fine for everything else.” With that crisis avoided, Hawke reached down to grab another instrument while Anders grunted his approval.

As the minutes rolled by, Anders almost lost count of the number of instruments Hawke had used on him. Anders felt as if his ass couldn’t handle much more use, but despite that, he powered forward. While his body might have been close to collapse, his mind was definitely not. It had not escaped his mind that his cock still stood untouched against the soft bedsheets. But, he was not one to question, because _surely,_ there couldn’t be much more; Hawke could only fit so much into a suitcase, right? A few more strikes and pleasurable moans and Hawke dropped a flogger to the side. Footsteps fell beside him and he dared to look up, making his blown pupils and debauched expression known to his Master.

“Stand,” Hawke said. Anders scrambled to comply, feeling a little self-conscious as his prick jutted out from his fully naked form while Hawke remained fully clothed (with the exception of the belt that he had already used on Anders, which lied in a bundle on the floor). His fingers fidgeted at his side and he didn’t quite know what to do with his eyes as they scanned the room. With Hawke’s eyes devouring him, he felt like a cornered animal; surprisingly, he didn’t mind that feeling.

Hawke sat on the edge of the bed and patted his knees. “Lie across my lap. I’m going to spank you.” The sheer bluntness of the statement sent another rush of blood to Anders’ cock, making it twitch and harden further. With Hawke’s noticing smirk, Anders blushed. “If you’re good for this, you may get to come,” Hawke said.

Anders flung himself onto Hawke’s lap in obedience, angling to hide his reddened features. His ass was perched in the middle of Hawke’s lap while his head (and everything else, really) hung helplessly to the side. Fingers kneaded into the soft, supple flesh of his buttocks and he groaned, grinding his cock into the side of Hawke’s clothed thigh. A quick swat stopped that immediately.

“Did I say you could do that?” Hawke growled, squeezing the flesh almost painfully.

Anders mewled. “No, Sir, I’m sorry, Sir,” he said, shuddering as Hawke released his arse from his grasp.

Apparently, the initial swat hadn’t counted because Hawke quickly brought down two more hard smacks, the sound echoing off the walls in an obscene manner. Anders moaned, mouth agape, as his eyes rolled back into his head. _Holy fuck._ He arched up, hoping for more, but realized that he actually had to follow his task with a frown.

“Pleasure,” he gasped, “Best so far. Five-ish.”

Hawke chuckled, the vibrations of which made Anders shiver. “Hmm,” he said. “The question is, do I keep going?”

Anders attempted to look back, to make any sort of eye contact with Hawke, and nodded furiously. “Oh Maker, please, Sir,” he pleaded, raising his hips up to encourage another smack.

“Not even I can argue with such beautiful begging,” Hawke said. He settled Anders into his lap a little more comfortably before bringing his hand down and connecting it with another, previous welt. If Anders had to guess, it was probably the cane; the burn from the smack spread down his arse and thigh and he moaned in delirious pleasure. He could barely even _think_ as the hand struck him once more, harder than before. He lay trembling in Hawke’s lap, wanting nothing more than to rut up against Hawke’s lap, but somehow, through the grace of the Maker, he resisted.

Pointed strikes continued to rain down on him, and his teeth had sunk so deeply into his lip that a small trickle of blood fell to the floor. If anything, Hawke’s spanks fell closer and closer together with each passing moment, and soon Anders was a continuous source of filthy pants and moans as his orgasm drew nearer and nearer.

Hawke wasn’t blind to the other man’s desire. He stopped his hand and looked down at the handiwork before him and Anders gave a confused moan, mourning the loss. “You may come when you wish,” Hawke said. He kept his hand hovering just above Anders’ arse, torturing, not touching, and Anders could have cried. He arched himself up and was rewarded with one last, hard smack, and Anders could no longer hold it in. He threw his head back with a loud moan as he came, his come spilling out and staining the leg of Hawke’s pants.

For good measure, Hawke spanked him in quick succession twice more, smirking as Anders’ body tensed below him. Finally, he let off, resting his hands at the small of Anders’ back while the other man took a few deep breaths. Moments passed, and Anders slipped out of Hawke’s lap to kneel at his feet. He nuzzled his cheeks against the cloth of Hawke’s crotch and Hawke was…soft?

“Do you wish for my mouth, Sir?” Anders asked, perplexed, wondering how in the hell Hawke could still be soft.

Hawke, for the first time that Anders had noticed, looked confused for a split second before realization washed over his face. A deep laugh escaped him and he shook his head. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I can’t get hard again for like, another twenty minutes. Trust me, I’ve timed it.”

Anders sighed with relief. “Oh. Good. I thought I had, uh. Done something wrong.”

Hawke sat forward and cupped his hands around Anders’ face, tipping it up so they faced each other. “You did _perfectly,_ ” Hawke said, dipping his head down so he could place a kiss into Anders’ soft locks. “Biology just doesn’t let me get hard. What the fuck was the Maker thinking? Ruining my sex life like that, fucking asshole.”

“Careful, you might get struck down, Sir,” Anders teased, resting his face against Hawke’s thigh.

“Mm. That would have happened a long time ago if he cared.”

“Maybe he’ll shine his attention down on humanity once more because you called him an asshole for keeping your dick soft,” Anders said, voice soft and slightly slurred. “Uh, Sir.”

Hawke guffawed. “Tomorrow’s headline: ‘The Chantry HATES Him! How One Man’s Sexual Perversion Has Heralded the Return of the Maker.”

Anders’ lips quivered before breaking into a mad fit of giggles. “Well, that’s it. You’ve barred us from the afterlife.”

“Real life is better anyways,” Hawke said, and he mournfully pulled Anders off of his thigh. Anders made an annoyed noise, but Hawke shushed him. “Get on the bed. I need to grab a few things.”

Anders nodded and climbed up, collapsing onto his stomach as to not agitate the slew of welts and marks along his arse and thighs. As Hawke left, Anders sighed happily. With no distractions, he could easily notice the stinging, constant pain along his backside. But it was pleasant. While he hadn’t particularly enjoyed the caning (quite the opposite, in fact), everything else was at least mildly pleasurable in moderation.

And different enough from his past experiences that it didn’t bring up any painful memories. Karl. Well, not until _now,_ at least; he cursed his fucking stupid brain and dug his face into the pillow, willing back uncomfortable tears. Maker, it had been years. He should be over it by now.

Willing a distraction, he reached a hand back and dragged his fingers along a raised portion with a hiss; thank the Maker he didn’t have to go into work at all for the next few days. As fortune would have it, Hawke returned as Anders writhed into the sheets.

“Having some difficulties?” Hawke asked, amused. He slid next to Anders and popped open a bottle of aloe. He spread a comfortable amount onto his fingers and slowly began to rub it into the red, angry looking marks that colored Anders’ backside. Anders hissed, but as the cooling comfort began to take over, he sighed into the bed. Hawke took care, ensuring that every welt and mark was covered in the white lotion. Before lying next to Anders, he set a small bottle of water and bar of chocolate next to him.

“Eat,” Hawke said. Anders gave him a questioning look. “Trust me. It helps with chemicals and shit in your brain.”

Anders took the bar with a chuckle and propped himself onto his elbows. “Chemicals and shit. Real specific, Sir.” Regardless, he unwrapped it and took a few bites before setting it to the side and curling against Hawke. His back screamed at him, the fabric rubbing unpleasantly against it, but he just curled further into Hawke’s chest.

Hawke wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You know you don’t have to call me Sir after scenes, right?”

“Mm,” Anders murmured. “Yeah. But I like to.” He paused, cocking his head to look up at Hawke. “Is that bad, or..? I mean. I’m still wearing the collar. It thought it was a given.”

“No, of course not. I don’t mind either way.” He shrugged. “But if I’m being honest, it’s kind of hot. None of my other partners have done it outside of scenes.”

Anders laughed. “In that case, I’ll continue, _Sir_.”

“Cheeky,” Hawke said, smacking his abused arse gently. Anders yelped. “After sex, cheeky is good. During sex, watch yourself.”

“If you give me another spanking like that as punishment, you sorely tempt me to do it anyways.”

“That was a _reward,_ ” Hawke said, rolling his eyes. “It would be a bit counterintuitive to give you something you really like as a punishment.”

Anders shrugged. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“I never am.” Hawke grinned. Hawke let the silence wash over them comfortably for a few minutes, ensuring that Anders was comfortable, before speaking. “So. Now that we’ve done that. Anything you want me to change? Or all good?”

“Just don’t hit me with a cane and we’re all good,” Anders said. In honesty, he thought, nothing at the moment could _be_ more perfect.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene got a little out of hand - oops! I had to split this and the next chapter apart at the risk of it being too long.
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested, I started a Tumblr to post all of my writing. I don't have much on there yet but feel free to send me prompts and I'll try to fill them. It keeps the juices flowing.  
> I'll also be participating in #AndersPositive this week, so if your want to read some short, fluffy, Handers fics, I'll be posting a new one each day.  
>   
> 


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for negative mental states, feelings of inadequacy, and overall angst (but it gets better!)

A half day ago, Anders had been on cloud nine. Literally _nothing_ could have been better than lying in Hawke’s arms after an intensely satisfying bout of dirty sex. It had been everything that he could have asked for in their first scene together, so it baffled him that he now found himself feeling like utter _shit_. And utter shit might even be an understatement.

He had woken up fine. More than fine. He knew that Hawke had to go to the conference, so his leaving wasn’t unexpected. They had even managed to squeeze in a bout of (glorious) fucking before Hawke apologized and left, promising to return with a cab to the hotel later in the evening.

But Anders was completely unable to shake the heavy feeling of disgust that fogged his mind. Soon after Hawke had left, his mind crashed. Completely.

It started with a headache – he didn’t get them often, so the burning ache in his mind was an almost foreign feeling. He popped a handful of Tylenol and collapsed onto the couch, hoping to will the ache out of his mind. And, sure, it did go away, only to transform into some horrific mental beast that he found himself unable to control.

He felt utterly worthless. Less than worthless, even, if that were possible. It was as if some other, malignant being of sorrow had taken over his entire mind and he couldn’t control it, couldn’t –

He clutched his head, willing tears back, but only just. The things he said, the things he _did_ …

He was a whore. He was a whore that liked to have his mouth fucked and ass beat. _I deserve it_ , he thought. _I deserve what I get. I’m a fucking whore._

The thoughts were overwhelming. Suffocating. _I deserve that, but I don’t deserve him._

The walls were too small. Everything…everything was too small, too tight. Suddenly he rose and stormed out of the house, not even consciously recognizing the fact that he had left until he was a half mile away and sitting on a bench in the middle of a park. The fresh air helped a little. The thoughts were still there, although they now felt more like annoying prods than outright punches.

He could think beyond the intrusive thoughts, at least. It was progress. He watched a dog play catch with its owner in the distance and he focused on that.

A golden retriever: a nice breed. Karl had one before he passed. As much as Anders preferred cats, that damn dog would always give him a big kiss every time he visited. He wondered how it was faring now. Karl’s sister took her, supposedly. In honesty, he didn’t remember much about the distribution of Karl’s earthly belongings after he had died; Anders had been too numb at the time to comprehend.

It was a bitter sort of irony that the focus on his previous pain made the intrusive thoughts go away. It wasn’t his topic of choice by any means, but anything was better than the mental hell Anders found himself in earlier.

With his mind mostly clear, he realized that he had forgotten his keys. And his phone. He swore internally, cursing himself for running out in a fit. Maker, if Hawke tried to contact him and he didn’t answer, he would know immediately that something was wrong. Unless he was at work or sleeping, Anders _always_ replied quickly. Always.

The realization hit that he had no money or way of entering his home. No way to eat. Hawke said he would be at the conference for, what, nine hours? He looked at the sky. The sun shone directly above him, casting no shadows. He groaned and plastered his face to his hands. At least another five hours. At least.

Honestly, there wasn’t much to do but go home and wait. He made a brief pit stop in a Starbucks to take a piss but resigned himself to sitting on his old, stone porch. For _hours._

 

When Hawke arrived, he looked none too pleased. His face was colored with worry and he stormed up the stairs to where Anders sat, hunched and sore against the stone. Anders looked to the side, guilty, avoiding his eyes.

“Anders, what the _hell_? Why haven’t you answered me?” Hawke demanded. A few seconds passed and his mind shifted quickly, picking up on the wrongness of the situation. “Wait, why are you on the porch?”

“I locked myself out. Left my keys in the house.”

“You left without your keys? Anders…” Hawke gave him a concerned look and kneeled next to him, brushing the side of his face with care. Anders jerked away from the touch without thinking and Hawke’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me what happened.”

“I,” Anders started. “I don’t know. I don’t. Everything was fine, but then you left, and it just felt like everything was…collapsing. In my head. I had to leave, or I…” He couldn’t finish the thought.

Hawke swore under his breath and slunk to the ground next to Anders. “Shit, shit, I’m sorry.” Despite the relatively small size of the porch, he managed to pull Anders into an embrace, pressing his face into the cloth of his shirt. “I’m sorry. I _knew_ I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

With a tight sob, Anders curled up further into Hawke’s chest. “I didn’t understand what was happening. I know you told me to call you if I started feeling weird, but it was so overwhelming and I couldn’t think and I left my phone inside.” He paused. “I didn’t want to worry you, but I couldn’t get back inside.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m here now. You’re safe and everything will be fine. Okay?”

Anders gave a small nod. “Okay.”

Hawke pulled back and looked him over thoroughly, searching for any sign of hurt or distress. Anders’ eyes were red ringed and his skin was a little splotchy, but Hawke seemed satisfied enough to stand and pull a credit card out of his wallet. “I’m going to try and break in. You don’t have any alarms, do you?”

Standing, Anders shook his head and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He hadn’t meant to cry. Fuck. “No. None that will go off from you jangling the door, at least.”

“Good.” Hawke was prepared to stand there for a good fifteen minutes jiggling and grumbling in annoyance, but to his surprise the door unlocked with only a few swipes of the card. He looked at Anders. “You, uh. You need better security.”

“Tell that to the landlord,” he sighed. As soon as they were both inside, he slouched onto the couch and nodded up at Hawke. “Listen, there’s something we need to talk about.” In the hours sitting on his porch, pondering, he decided that he needed to tell Hawke about Karl. It was in the past, sure, but he couldn’t hide it from his lover any longer.

Hawke’s stomach dropped as he took a seat. “I agree, but I need to know you’re alright first.” His fingers traced circles along Anders’ jaw and he tilted the blonde’s face to look at him. “You were in Subdrop, if you didn’t realize it. I thought that the care I gave you last night and this morning would be enough for me to leave for the day.” He paused, guilt wracking his features. “It wasn’t. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you, not for some stupid fucking useless conference. They didn’t even have donutsfor me to steal and bring back to you _._ ”

Anders snorted. “Well now I’m just disappointed. Shame on them.” He curled up into Hawke’s chest. “It’s…okay. Now, at least. I’m glad that I know that’s what a drop feels like, you know? It was fucking terrifying, sure,” he said, “But I’m still glad I know.”

“I’ve had subs in the past go through it, but I was there. I wish I could have been there for you too. I was so fucking stupid, Anders. Maker.”

“You’re not stupid, Sir. You couldn’t have known.” The title fell from his lips without notice.

“Yes, I could have, but I’m not the type to wallow in guilt. As long as you forgive me, it’s fine.” His lips pursed and he glanced to the side nervously. “Which you uh, do, right?”

With a laugh, Anders placed a kiss to Hawke’s stilled lips “Of course. Always. Unless you kill someone; that might be hard, but I’d find a way.”

“Good to know I can murder someone and maybe still have you on my side.” Hawke cleared his throat. “You also had something you wanted to talk about..?”

“Oh!” Anders exclaimed. “Yeah. Maker, it’s a bit awkward, but, well.” There’s a long pause where Anders thought deeply of what to say. “I haven’t been totally forthcoming about my relationship history.”

Hawke tilted his head and pulled back. “Okay..?”

“I was…seeing someone. A few years back. His name was Karl. We were…I loved him. I thought he was my soulmate at the time; young love and all that.” He chuckled, a tinge of sadness tainting it. “He died, pretty suddenly—a brain tumor... I was a mess. A giant fucking mess. He,” Anders sucked in a breath. “I didn’t realize it until I started seeing you, but what we had, it was similar. Sort of. There weren’t any rules or anything like I have with you; we just did what was natural. He was dominant and some of the things, well,” He chewed the edge of his lip and looked up at Hawke. “They definitely fall into the ‘bondage and sometimes smacking around’ category. Consensually, of course.”

Hawke bit his tongue back a number of times to keep from speaking while Anders spoke. He could see the pain evident in Anders’ eyes; it didn’t surprise him that he had avoided the topic up until now.

“Maker, I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Hawke could hardly _imagine_. “That’s fucking horrible.” He placed a chaste kiss to the top of Anders’ head. “Are you…?” He didn’t know how to phrase it. How the _fuck_ do you say ‘Are you ok? Are you really over your dead ex?’ without sounding like a complete and total jackass?

Anders, fortunately, picked up on Hawke’s distress. He gave him a weak smile. “I loved him, but it’s in the past. Maker protect me but I love you now and that’s what matters.”

Hawke nodded. “I know. I just wanted to hear it,” he said, smug. “And…just to make sure. I’m not upset you kept this from me. I would have preferred the truth up front, but I understand. Alright?”

Anders gave a deep sigh of relief. “Can’t say that I wasn’t a little worried about it, honestly. But, uh. Thanks. Let’s just consider ourselves even?”

“Even?” He laughed. “Probably not the best way to phrase these deep, important relationship issues. I love it. Yeah, we’re even.”

“Good.” Anders, in a completely transparent move, threw his legs over Hawke’s and straddled his thighs. “You want another round before we head over to the hotel? Nothing crazy, just sex. And then food, preferably.”

“You’re insatiable,” Hawke muttered, his hands sliding with ease over Anders’ lithe form. “I love that, too.”

“And me, Sir?” Anders grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he arched his back into the roaming hands.

“And you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was dreading writing this chapter and put it off forever so that's why it's so late and a bit short. I hate writing angst. Sorry! There will be tons of smut in the future to make up for it :)


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complete obscenity, no attempt at a plot whatsoever in this chapter.  
> Content warning for derogatory language, mild acrophobia, and heavier D/S themes than usual.

The hotel, Anders found, was not quite so much a hotel as it was a palace. Large, marble columns jutted from the ceiling, and the furniture and walls were draped in various shades of gold. Anders felt out of place. It's not as if he was destitute; nurses made do. It had more to do with the fact that he wasn’t _obscenely rich_ , which clearly, the average clientele of this lavish, borderline gaudy hotel were.

A woman in the lobby had two yappy dogs in her purse. Two. The model of excessive decadence.

His thoughts shifted to Hawke. They hadn’t really discussed their mutual financial circumstances - not in any meaningful way at least. Anders knew that he was some sort of software developer and was employed by his grandfather; Hawke had told him that much. But his finances? Anders had no idea. He didn’t even know what a software developer _was_ ; his knowledge of technology extended to turning off his laptop and then back on again and then bringing it in to a repair shop.

But clearly, Hawke and his family had money. An abundance of it. As they entered their room, Hawke turned to him with a quirked lip. “You look a little uncomfortable.”

Anders supposed he did. The clothes that he wore over (a button-up shirt and a pair of jeans) were clearly too informal. “Uh, a bit. I’m not used to this,” he waved his arms around, gesturing at nothing in particular. “This level of weird decadence.”

Anders walked to the middle of the room and stared up and around, looking bewildered. From where he stood, the room appeared to be at _least_ three-quarters the size of his entire apartment. “It’s just as fancy in here as it was downstairs! You’ve got a fucking chandelier up there! And,” he pointed to the side wildly. “And a window that takes up a whole wall! Maker, you probably have some sort of Jacuzzi too, right?”

“Of course,” Hawke scoffed, looking amused. “I was allowed to choose where I wanted to stay, and I decided to use the company money on a place that had the highest rated food in the city. The Jacuzzi is just a bonus.” His grin was wicked and he stepped forward until he was pressed flush against Anders. His hand travelled up the entire length of Anders’ shirt before settling at the nape of his neck and squeezing.

“I imagine that we’ll use it at some point. Not now, though. I have other plans.” The words sent a shiver down Anders’ spine. Hawke’s fingers dug into the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulders, and Anders groaned, head arcing down. With a firm grasp, Hawke pressed down with the heel of his hand until Anders was positioned in an almost-bow.

“Good,” Hawke purred. “Now kneel.”

Anders promptly obeyed and sunk to his knees, his eyes trained to the floor. He felt a hand card through his hair and remove the tie that he had haphazardly thrown in earlier, releasing blonde locks to frame his face.

Hawke made an approving noise. “Good boy. Stay there.” Anders made no move to show his acknowledgment, continuing to kneel in silence while Hawke dug through the still-packed luggage. Maker, Anders didn’t think he could _ever_ get tired of this. He felt a pleasant buzz at the base of his skull and, with his head lowered, he jumped a little when Hawke returned and slid the collar just below his Adam’s apple.

Anders whined softly and glanced up at Hawke. He had absolutely no idea what he had in mind for him tonight, and the thrill of it went straight to his groin, his toes curling in pleasure, burrowing into the plush carpet beneath him.

Hawke smirked and grabbed a handful of Anders’ hair. “I’ve hardly done anything to you and you look like you’re about to come in your pants,” he said. He brushed a single finger down the side of Anders’ cheek and Anders nudged against it. “That’s one of the things that are so lovely about you. So receptive, Anders.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Anders murmured, the praise bringing a bright flush to his cheeks. Arousal bloomed within him, his cock pressing hard against the cloth of his pants. Hawke withdrew his finger quite suddenly and took two steps back. Anders looked up at him with distress, a small whine catching in his throat.

Hawke pointed to the bed. “Strip and change into what I’ve laid out for you. I’ll help you when you need it.”

With a wary expression, Anders cocked his head. Help him? With what? Still, he nodded and said, “Of course, Sir.” He disrobed quickly, folding the clothes and stacking them on one of the handful of cozy looking chairs. Hawke watched him intently the entire time and Anders couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious with his cock jutting out so obscenely.He strode over to the edge of the bed and suddenly understood what Hawke had meant.

A corset. With accompanying adornments. Heat gathered in his face and he turned to face Hawke, one hand touching the garment. “I, uh. I’ve never worn one before, Sir.”

Hawke nodded. “I assumed as much. I’ll help, but I expect for you to learn how to do most of it by yourself.” Hawke picked up the corset and Anders stared at it. Really, Anders had to admit that it was quite nice, entirely black and sleek and _classy._ Anders never imagined himself wearing one before Hawke, but this one was quite nice, and if Hawke was going to put it on…

“First thing’s first, though,” Hawke said. He gestured to the pair of sheer stockings and shoes that still lay on the bed.“Put those on. It’s easier before the corset.”

With his face still flushed, Anders nodded and picked the stockings up. Like the corset, they were simple, entirely sheer with the exception of a thicker band of cotton running along the top. This…was something completely unfamiliar. He stared at them for a few moments, dumbstruck, before moving to sit on the bed. Slipping them on wasn’t nearly as difficult as he thought it would be; it required a bit of creative leg contorting and Hawke smirked at him a number of times as Anders struggled, but nevertheless he managed to hike them up to his thighs. The shoes, a stark red, heels reaching to the heavens, were even easier, although he dreaded the thought of walking in them.

He felt a bit ridiculous, clothed in only a pair of sultry stockings and heels, but his dom didn’t seem to mind. Hawke dragged his hands gently along the length of the stockings, stopping at the supple skin of Anders’ arse and squeezing.

“Brace yourself on your arms against the bed. Keep your back straight.”

Anders nodded. “Yes, Sir.” He did as instructed to the best of his ability and soon felt the delicate leather encircling his waist. Anders could admit that he had absolutely _no_ idea how they worked, but Hawke seemed to have some experience, at least. Hawke fastened the clasps at the front without looking, nipping at Anders’ shoulder.

As he closed the last clasp, Hawke pulled back and ran his hands appreciatively down the sides of the corset before grasping the laces and pulling back firmly. Anders felt a sudden tightness; he had expected the binding sensation at some point, but it still caught him off guard. A small gasp escaped him and Hawke pulled tighter, causing Anders’ eyes to roll back into his skull.

It didn’t hurt. Not at all. In fact, Anders thought, it was rather pleasant. With each tug from Hawke the corset tightened around his waist in a way that was utterly delicious. Right when Anders thought that one more tug might be _too_ tight, Hawke stopped and smacked Anders’ firm ass. He yelped, surprised, and ground his cock into the (incredibly expensive looking) comforter to escape the impact.

“Up,” Hawke said. Anders struggled to his feet but managed to not spill over onto the ground, despite the heels. He crossed his arms behind his back, exposing Hawke’s handiwork and his leaking member. While normally his waist was as straight as a board, Hawke had tightened the corset enough to allow for a noticeably curvier physique. The position left him feeling bare and a little bit ridiculous, and Hawke brushed a finger down the boning of Anders’ corset before settling it at the base of his cock.

“You look divine. Damn. Do you like the gift I’ve given you, Anders?” His hand surrounded Anders’ cock, stroking it softly, gathering a bead of precome onto his thumb.

Anders moaned and attempted to still his hips from thrusting into Hawke’s grip. “Y-Yes, Sir.” He groaned. “It feels…nice. Tight, but nice.”

“Good,” Hawke said. He gave Anders’ member a quick squeeze before releasing it and gesturing to the window that took up almost the entirety of the wall. “Go to the window - brace against it like you did the bed. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

Anders balked. He could see the entire skyline from the window and he was wearing a fucking _corset_ with his dick hanging out. It wasn’t something he particularly wanted the entire city to see. “Sir, you wish to have me against the window?” he asked, eyebrows knit in trepidation.

“I’m not going to entertain your pointless questions – especially ones I’ve already answered. Go before I decide you deserve something else.”

“O-of course, Sir.” Hawke’s imposing tone sent a surge of excitement to his groin and Anders shuffled over to the glass pane, running a hand over the smooth surface. It was colder than expected and he almost pulled his hand back in shock. He stopped himself, knowing that Hawke would disapprove, and instead pressed his other hand to the surface a few feet away from the other. With the corset constricting his airflow in any other position, he allowed himself to slide slowly back, his spine still straight and his feet planted firmly on the ground. Feeling stable, he steeled himself to gaze out the window.

He nearly recoiled. While he had been on a plane before, the feeling then was absolutely _nothing_ compared to the jolt of alarm that rushed through him upon realizing he was staring into the abyss of a metropolis from a few hundred feet in the air. The sun had almost set, casting odd, gleaming shadows across the city. If Anders weren’t pressed up against the window, he might’ve found it quite beautiful.

As it was, though, one of his hands moved to clutch the nearby window paneling and he about stumbled over, but Hawke’s sudden, stable presence behind him prevented that.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Hawke said, his fingers wet with lube and toying with the rim of Anders’ hole.

“Ah!” Anders yelped. He pushed back onto the finger with a needy whine. “Would be nice if I didn’t think I was going to fall into it.” He paused, then added breathily, “Sir.”

“You won’t,” Hawke said. His finger slipped into Anders hole, still soft and pliable from the rounds of fucking earlier that day. “I’ve got you. Now be a good boy and stick your ass up further for me.”

Anders moaned his compliance and attempted to arch his rear up. With the corset constricting his movement, it was difficult to find a position where he could comfortably rest and still give Hawke what he wanted – unfettered access to his arse. Inevitably he found himself in a position that left him a little breathless but provided Hawke with proper leverage to fuck him senseless.

Anders felt another finger wiggle in and he let his head fall with a groan. “Please, Sir, I’m ready. Fuck me, Sir!” Color bloomed in his cheeks. He had hardly realized how much they’d been fucking around, literally, until it took Hawke only two fingers and a matter of seconds to open him up, ready for his cock.

“That last part sounded like an order to me.” His fingers twisted in Anders’ arse once more before he removed them and lined his cock up to Anders’ entrance, pushing forward just enough for Anders to feel the blunt head at the rim. “Ask for it or you’re not getting shit.”

A shudder traveled down Anders’ body and his cock twitched. “Maker, Sir,” he gasped, “Please, please, fuck me, I’m going to die if you don’t!”

“Better,” Hawke grunted, and grabbing tightly onto Anders’ thighs he pushed in.

Despite having sex twice earlier in the day, those acts, while good, paled in comparison to when Hawke dommed the fuck out of him. Hawke’s cock was the same, Anders’ arse was the same, but the air and mood that surrounded them when Hawke was completely in control was fucking amazing and unlike anything else Anders had ever experienced.

Even with Hawke pounding into his ass like he owned it (and, Anders thought, he actually _might_ ), a pleasant haze always permeated his thoughts and forming words beyond ‘fuck’ and ‘sir’ was a mighty task.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll be begging me to stop,” Hawke growled, his hands coming to rest on the sides of the corset. “Think: maybe somebody in another building will see you bent over, taking it in the ass like a good little bitch. Would you like that, Anders?”

Anders moaned incoherently in response to the filth spewing from Hawke’s mouth. Hawke clutched the corset and forced Anders back onto his cock, balls deep, holding him there while he hunched over Anders' back and snarled in his ear. “I asked you a question, so you give me a fucking answer. I’ll ask you again: would you like that, Anders?” To punctuate his point, Hawke grabbed a fistful of Anders’ hair and pulled _hard_.

Anders body went rigid and as he screamed ‘Yes, Sir!’ he came, his spend spattering the window and trickling down in a way that was downright pornographic. His hole clenched around Hawke and Hawke made a surprised noise, pulling back.

“Did you…did you just come, Anders?” His voice sounded aghast.

 _Oh, fuck,_ Anders thought, realization shattering his post-orgasmic haze. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ He should have known better, it was a _rule_ , Maker, he was totally fucked.

“I…yes, Sir.”

Hawke dropped the handful of hair and remained completely still. Too still. Anders squirmed, Hawke’s cock still lodged in his ass. “And you _know_ that you are not allowed to come unless I give you permission?”

“…Yes, Sir. I know.”

“So then why, exactly, have you disrespected me by coming before me and without even getting permission?” Hawke’s voice dropped to a low growl and his hand found purchase at Ander’s collar. His fingers slipped under the leather and he tugged firmly.

“I’m sorry, Sir!” Anders gasped, his voice constricted and harsh due to the collar. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Not good enough,” Hawke barked. He tightened his grip around the collar and withdrew his cock from Anders with a lewd squelch. “I give you so few rules, and yet you still break them? Maker.” He started walking, dragging the collar, and therefore Anders, behind him. Anders made a few feeble choked noises and almost tripped over his heels before Hawke threw him belly first onto the bed.

If it were possible, Anders would have came again right then and there. Even though he had literally _just came,_ Hawke’s fury was so fucking hot and somewhere deep in his mind, he thought that he should break rules more often.

He must have moaned or groaned or made some form of pleased noise because Hawke’s hand immediately came down on his arse with a loud, reverberating smack. “You’ve already gotten your pleasure. Stop moaning like a bitch in heat.” Although his face was buried in the bed, Anders felt Hawke’s thick cock stretch his entrance and push in once more. He held back a moan, but the motions of Hawke fucking him inside and out was nearly too much. His teeth sunk into his lower lip and a trickle of blood dripped onto the bed.

“I’m going to punish you, but I’m going to take my pleasure from you first,” Hawke grunted. He thrust forward a handful of times, his balls slapping Anders’ arse with each one. “You little slut. I can’t believe you.” He shook his head with a loud tsk and continued to pound the life out of the man below him.

Anders shivered. Punishment? Maker. The only punishment he had ever received was when Hawke was never there to deliver it in person. The thought sent a thrill to his gut, and a particularly hard thrust to his over-sensitized prostate made him clench and groan in distressed pleasure.

His channel tightened, and Hawke came with a short grunt. The heat washed through him and Anders’ hole quivered around Hawke’s still-hard member. He remained silent and still, waiting for Hawke to deliver…whatever retribution he had in mind.

Hawke, apparently, had other ideas, as he slipped out of Anders and collapsed on top of him like a lump. Come spilled out of him, running down his thighs and probably ruining the expensive bedspread below him. “Fuck,” Hawke murmured. “Fuck.”

Whatever air that was left in Anders’ lungs was suddenly expelled as Hawke crumpled onto him. He sputtered as the corset dug into his chest. “Red! Can’t breathe, off! Off!”

Hawke immediately fumbled and rolled off to the side. “Shit, sorry!” He brushed a hand through Anders’ hair, tucking the stray strands behind his ear. Any use of the safe word called for an immediate end to the scene, even if they were, well, basically finished. Anders sucked in a few deep breaths before looking at Hawke and grinning.

“So…does almost crushing me make us even then, Sir?”

Hawke guffawed. “No. Nice try though.”

“Are you even going to tell me what you’re going to punish me with?” Anders groaned.

“No. That takes the fun out of torturing you.”

Anders curled up against Hawke as best he could with the corset and pointed shoes. “Are you going to tell me _anything_?” He whined, looking up at Hawke pleadingly.

“I can tell you that that scene was pretty hot. Otherwise, no.”

“Maker, you’re the worst.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ll think the same tomorrow.” He pressed a kiss to Anders’ forehead and grinned wickedly. “Now, give my fucked-out self a moment to rest before I grab us something to drink.”


	9. IX

Hawke had left for the conference a few hours earlier and Anders found it impossible to fall back asleep with the collar pressed tightly against his throat. It was a constant, pleasant pressure, and its presence helped alleviate the ache that crawled into his chest whenever Hawke left.

Fortunately, Hawke’s absence wasn’t nearly as distressing as it had been the day before. The collar helped, yes, but Hawke had paid him extra attention before he had left by lavishing kisses and praise onto him. And oh, Maker, the Jacuzzi. He hadn’t ever had a bath like that before, and the utterly gorgeous man that had sat across from him in it had only heightened the outlandish circumstances.

It was so foreign to him, being pampered. Because that’s what it was: when he wasn’t speared on Hawke’s cock in one way or another, Hawke absolutely _spoiled_ him. Hawke had ordered room service made with ingredients Anders had never heard of, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t one of the best things he had ever eaten. The whole situation was…

Nice. Weird. Vaguely uncomfortable? To be indulged to such an extent was something that he hadn’t experienced since his time with Karl, and even then, Anders was usually the one doing the pampering.

Of course, such treatment wasn’t without its complexities when it came to Hawke. Anders was still entirely aware of the fact that there was an unknown punishment looming over his head. Hawke took every opportunity to remind him of it even when he wasn’t physically present.

For the first time since Hawke had left, Anders’ phone vibrated on the bed next to him. He snatched it up, almost fumbling it, and glanced at the contents.

 

This conference is boring. Would rather be torturing you.

12:53

 

I’m not sure how to respond to that, Sir.

12:55

 

Hawke replied within seconds and Anders didn’t even try to hide the smirk.

 

Begging of some kind, ideally.

12:55

 

You want me to beg for a punishment?

12:56

 

Or beg me not to. I’m not picky.

12:57

 

‘Not picky’ my ass. You’re the pickiest man I know.

12:57

 

Watch your tone, boy. You’re already on thin ice.

12:58

 

The words sent a shiver down Anders’ spine. Only from Hawke could such a simple message reduce him to a quivering mess. He leaned back onto the bed and sighed, the palm of his hand pressing against his clothed crotch. Uncaring about the time and oblivious to anything else but his erection, Anders continued to rub small circles into himself, moaning softly until the phone buzzed next to him.

Yelping, he turned it on, his expression cloudy. Fuck.

 

You had better not be doing what I think you’re doing, Anders.

1:05

 

I’m sorry, Sir.

1:05

Is that an admittance of guilt?

1:06

 

Anders swore.

 

Yes, Sir.

1:07

 

I leave you alone for a few hours and you can’t control yourself? Even after last night? I’m leaving early. Be naked and kneeling when I return if you know what’s good for you.

1:09

Yes, Sir.

1:10

 

When no response came, Anders dropped the phone onto the bed and stared off into the wall. Chalk another one up to sheer stupidity. Although Anders was sure that realistically, Hawke _was not actually angry,_ he felt guilt well up in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn’t a nice feeling. The only thing that seemed to sate the bubbling fear of disappointing Hawke in his stomach was _actually_ following Hawke’s instructions. He stripped and adjusted his collar before gradually sliding to his knees.

Anders wasn’t sure how long he’d been kneeling for when he heard the door click open. Instinctually he wanted to look up to make sure that the person entering wasn’t some form of intruder. The maid, for example - she had almost entered in one of their previous sessions, stopped only by Hawke screaming like a madman at the door.

Anders knew, though-- knew it was Hawke because Hawke was a fucking presence and Anders could feel him from halfway across the room. Although he wanted to look up, desperately, he kept his head bowed and hands clasped in his lap. Hawke would accept nothing less.

He heard the footsteps fall closer and he curled further in on himself. It was like he could sense Hawke’s disappointment rolling in waves off of him. It was almost paralyzing and Anders could do nothing but stare firmly forward as Hawke grabbed him by the collar and tipped his head back, rough enough to almost knock his already unsteady body over. The collar dug deep into his throat and Anders gagged as Hawke held him in place.

“Look at me,” Hawke said. With tears beginning to form, Anders complied, his glassy eyes rolling up to meet Hawke’s gaze above him. He didn’t look particularly angry. Just…stern. Resigned to whatever punishment he was about to dole out. Anders found it difficult to continue looking at him and his eyes dared to dart away, wanting to look at anything but Hawke’s piercing stare.

He choked again and Hawke loosened his grasp just enough to allow him to breathe.

“Why are you so intent on being bad, Anders?” His voice was softer than Anders thought it would be, the dulcet tones sparking arousal in him.

“I’m not,” Anders said, breathless, all of the blood in his body having rushed to his cock. “I don’t want to be, Sir.”

“Then you’re not trying very hard. I have half a mind to think you do it on purpose.” He released the collar but not without giving a quick, warning tug. “Tell me, just so we’re both on the same page here: why am I about to punish you?”

Anders swallowed. “Because I came without your permission, Sir.”

“And?”

“Because I touched myself without your permission.”

Hawke took a step back. “Good. Get on the bed.”

Although Hawke hadn’t explicitly required it, Anders fell onto his hands and crawled towards the bed, stopping at the foot of it and looking up at Hawke for approval. Hawke nodded, though his face was still unsmiling, and Anders clambered onto the bed with a shiver.

Before he could even settle onto his stomach Hawke’s fingers had encircled his wrists, forcing his arms together until his hands rested at the small of his back. A small moan escaped him and Hawke…seemed pleased, if the look on his face was anything to go by. A hungry grin pulled at his lips, his teeth flashing as he held Anders’ wrists together with just one hand. The other travelled up to Anders’ hair, stroking it with reverence before grabbing a fistful close to the scalp and pulling back. Anders yelped and his arms struggled under Hawke’s grasp, but it was futile.

Hawke angled Anders’ face towards his own and allowed his breath to ghost over the blond’s lips. “Stay exactly where you are,” Hawke said, something approaching a growl lurking beneath the words.

Anders bit his lip, a slight twinge of nervousness fluttering in his gut, but from his prone position he nodded nonetheless. “Yes, Sir.”

He did his best to remain still while Hawke rummaged through his bag. His knees, his sole stabilizing force, were aching and he felt so, so tempted to inch them apart, just a little, just enough to find comfort. But thank the fucking _Maker_ he didn’t because as soon as he considered acting on the thought, Hawke turned around and faced him, a coil of rope dangling from his hand.

Anders swore he could feel his stomach drop right out of him. His toes curled as Hawke unraveled it, checking it over (it was _much_ longer than Anders had initially thought), and climbed back onto the bed.

“Lie on your stomach but keep your hands steady.” To punctuate his point, Hawke planted his palm onto Anders’ shoulders, the firm pressure assisting in pushing him down. Anders trembled while Hawke swung his knees around Anders legs and perched on his thighs. He grabbed Anders’ wrists tightly once more, an almost-scolding gesture, and began to wrap the rope around them.

It was tight. Not tight enough to cut off his circulation, but tight enough to hurt in a way that was borderline unpleasant. He flexed his hands, testing, but for that he received a quick slap to the upper thigh.

“Did I say you could move?” Hawke asked.

“No, Sir,” Anders said with a moan.

“Then don’t.”

Hawke returned to the rope and Anders was a little surprised when Hawke didn’t stop at tying his wrists. There was suddenly rope against his biceps and Hawke pulled tight, twice, forcing his arms closer together as he grunted.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Anders would be feeling this in the morning. Already he could feel a faint soreness in his shoulders and irritation against his wrists. The physical pain, though? It was almost nothing compared to the wild, aroused delirium he experienced at the realization that he couldn’t _do_ anything. He didn’t need to test the restraints that ran up his arms to know that he wasn’t going anywhere that Hawke didn’t want him to.

With a perfunctory slap to the ass Hawke slipped off of him, flipping him over in the process. Although Anders _knew_ this was a punishment (although he wasn’t quite sure how, yet; they had already agreed that bondage was fine), he could tell that Hawke took care to not crush him, flipping him onto his back with just enough force to create a moan of pleasure instead of pain.

From there, Anders expected many things. Hawke would fuck his face, maybe, and slap him around while he couldn’t do anything about it. It wouldn’t have been much of a punishment because Anders would have completely enjoyed it, but it would have made more sense than what Hawke _did_ do: give him one strong, devious look before sinking his mouth enthusiastically onto Anders’ half-hard cock.

It wasn’t just a few licks here and there, either. Hawke was fucking devouring him, his lips and tongue seemingly everywhere on his cock at once, his beard tickling the underside of his balls. Anders couldn’t hold back the moans that fell from his throat, and if the look that Hawke gave him while his cock was halfway down his throat was any indication, he was fully appreciating them.

Anders wasn’t sure in what world this was considered a punishment, but he wasn’t about to complain. The way that Hawke’s throat constricted around his cock was magnificent and, quite honestly, something Anders thought he might not ever experience. Not that he thought that Hawke was a selfish lover – he had proven quite the opposite – but he wasn’t sure if it was something that fit into their dynamic.

Now that they had tried, though: enthusiastic yes. He could feel his release building within him and the way that Hawke was bobbing up and down on his member was doing him no favors. He wanted so badly to grasp at Hawke’s hair and his fingers twitched into the bedsheets with longing. His chest heaved as Hawke took him deep and swallowed and he was so close, _so close,_ just needed a little bit more from Hawke, _anything –_

And then Hawke was off of him with a self-satisfied smirk, wiping his mouth. Anders could do nothing but gape and sputter.

“You – why – why the fuck did you _stop_?!”

Hawke firmly smacked him across the cheek. Anders gasped, and a red, splotchy mark appeared almost instantly.

“In what universe is it ok to address me that way?” Hawke asked, brown eyes boring into him.

“It – it isn’t,” Anders said, his mind still reeling in pleasure from the slap. “Sir,” he added hastily.

“Then why did you say it?”

“Because I was confused, Sir.” He cocked his head. “You were sucking me and then you…weren’t.”

“How observant,” Hawke said. His hand brushed against Anders’ cock and he gave it a light tug. Anders keened. “It’s only fair that if you come without my approval, I should be allowed to revoke the privilege whenever, right?”

Anders didn’t like the sound of that. “Yes…yes, Sir,” he said, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Glad you understand,” Hawke said, his lips turned up in a smirk. His hand trailed through the rough hairs around Anders’ cock before gripping him tightly at the base. “Isn’t it better when you’re a good boy, Anders? When you follow the rules?” Hawke masturbated him with slow strokes, stopping only to circle the tip of Anders’ cock with his thumb. It was languid - lazy, even – and Anders finally understood how cruel Hawke could be.

It continued like that for a while. A long while – Hawke had even slipped out of his own clothes. Anders couldn’t even begin to guess at how long he had been lying with his arms bound with Hawke pushing him to the edge or orgasm before pulling away and not allowing him the pleasure. Honestly, Anders didn’t think he could make it much longer, mentally or physically. His mind was a fucking wreck. Having been _so close_ to orgasm so many times was taking a toll on him and he wanted to cry, wanted to have control of his hands so he could scratch and claw and beg for release.

Hawke didn’t seem phased. He was going down on Anders again like an animal, licking stripes up the side of his cock while Anders writhed and struggled. Although Anders produced pleading little moans every few seconds, it wasn’t that which pulled Hawke off.

No, the sound of his phone ringing is what did it. Hawke sat up, spit and precome dribbling down the side of his face. He seemed to recognize the tone if the look of dismay on his face was anything to go by. Still, he shook his head.

“Ignore it.”

Anders gave a tiny nod and Hawke returned to Anders’ cock. He _tried_ to ignore it, at least; it rang another five times before whoever was calling finally gave up. The look on Hawke’s face was entirely imperceptible but through his stiff shoulders and stilted movements, Hawke’s tension was obvious.

Anders bit his lip. “Yellow,” he said, and Hawke immediately popped off of him, moving to flip Anders over and untie the rope. “No! Not…not that.”

Hawke stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Anders said. “But you’re freaking me out a little.”

Hawke cocked his head. “Freaking you out?” Realization must have hit him because his mouth shifted into a soft o. “Oh. It was just my grandfather – I’ll call him back later. Don’t worry about it.”

“But _you_ seem worried.”

“I swear to you I’m fine, Anders,” Hawke said, exasperated, though he leaned over to press a soft kiss to Anders’ forehead. “I’ll get back to him later. Are you good to continue?”

“Yeah,” Anders said. “As long as you’re alright.”

Hawke shook his head. “I’m _fine._ Now,” he said, pressing Anders back onto the bed with the palm of his hand. “You’ve been a pretty good boy, don’t you think? Do you think you should get a reward?”

“Oh Maker, please, _yes,_ ” Anders groaned. His hips arched up in offering.

“I’m not entirely convinced,” Hawke said, his fingers trailing down Anders’ chest. “And I don’t think the Maker is the one you should be begging right now.” Hawke took Anders’ cock, entirely unaffected by the conversation, into his hand and squeezed.

“Sir, _please,_ ” Anders groaned. Hawke’s hand formed a tight circle around his red, angry looking cock and it was almost – almost – too much. “Please. Please, Sir, let me come, I swear I won’t break the rules again, please.”

Hawke loomed over him and pressed a hand against his throat, around his collar. “Are you sure? I’m going to hold you to that, and if you break the again you’ll get far worse than this.” His words were teasing, almost mocking, but Anders found delight in them.

“Yes, Sir,” Anders said, squirming. “I promise. Please.”

Hawke looked over him with narrowed eyes before nodding. “I believe you.”

His grip on Anders’ cock tightened even more, if that was possible. The rhythm Hawke set was impossibly fast, too much for Anders’ oversensitive member, and Anders writhed in the bed as he felt his release build once more. Hawke’s other hand shot to his own neglected cock, stroking it in a more leisurely way than he did Anders’.

In a quick second Hawke was on him, rutting against him, his burly hand surrounding the both of them. Anders eyes rolled back into his head and he arched into it, trying to rut back, but with Hawke’s weight on top of him and his arms bound behind him, there wasn’t much he could do but take the pace that Hawke set. A vicious sounding snarl came from Hawke’s throat as his hips snapped against him and Anders moaned in response.

“Anders,” Hawke said, his fist tight around their cocks. “Come.”

And that did it. It was more relief than it was pleasure, though Anders was glad for that. He wasn’t sure how much more he could have taken. He sobbed as he finally, _finally_ came, and moments later he felt Hawke pulse against him, his release mixing with Anders’ own against his stomach. Hawke panted, searching for breath, and then rubbed his come-filled hand onto Anders’ chest.

Anders had the sense of mind to glare, but when Hawke gave him what Anders had started calling The Look, Anders’ eyes darted away. No sense in arguing with that. Hawke crashed next to him and, after a few moments, rolled Anders onto his side, working at the rope knots.

“How are you feeling?” Hawke asked, voice low, untying the rope around Anders’ biceps.

Anders replied something, or so he thought, but Hawke prodded him a few seconds later and asked again. “Anders. Babe. You alright?”

“Mnf,” Anders replied, stretching his wrists and promptly flopping them onto the bed when the ropes came off. Hawke coiled the rope and sat it on the floor before running a gentle finger down Anders’ spine.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hawke said. He moved to push himself off of the bed and Anders turned his head towards him, making a pathetically needy noise.

Hawke leaned in and pressed his lips to Anders’ cheek. “I’ll be right back. I need to get something for your wrists, okay?”

Anders didn’t particularly want him to go, even though he knew it was only a few feet away, but he nodded nonetheless. Hesitantly he rolled onto his back and brought his wrists up to his face, cringing. Although the rope hadn’t drawn any blood, the skin was still close to breaking and they were an ugly shade of red.

Hawke returned with a small tube of ointment and some water (and his phone, Anders noted) moments later. He removed the cap from the tube and spread a small amount onto his fingers before rubbing it gingerly into the abused skin. Anders made a pained noise but allowed Hawke to spread it, eventually finding that the gentle touch was actually pretty nice.

When Hawke finished, Anders snatched the bottle of water and chugged some down. Hawke looked on, amused, running his fingers through Anders’ hair as the blond curled up into his chest.

They stayed like that for a while, saying nothing, Anders enjoying the rise and fall of Hawke’s chest.

A few more minutes passed. “You’re awfully quiet,” Hawke said.

“Mmhmm,” Anders murmured. “You knocked the words out of me.”

Hawke laughed. “Guess I can’t argue with that. Do you mind if I, uh,” He gestured to the phone he had sat on the nightstand. “Check my messages?”

Anders turned his head to look up at him. “Nope.”

Anders was cognizant enough to notice that Hawke, after listening to whatever voicemails had built up, did not look happy. There was something cloudy in his features, something that Anders, in his currently impaired mental state, couldn’t place. He turned around and snuggled into Hawke’s chest, his face resting in the crook of Hawke’s neck.

“You okay?”

Hawke drew in a breath. “Yeah,” Hawke said, though it didn’t sound entirely convincing. He ran a hand down Anders’ back, stopping it just above his hips. “Just work shit. It’s fine.”

“Alright,” Anders said. A pause. “I love you.”

That brought a huff. Or a chuckle. A huckle? Anders couldn’t tell. “Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait - I was having fun writing Watch Me. :)


End file.
